


You Bring Me Closer

by lazilylazy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: And I'm Not As Funny As I Think I Am, Angst, Angst and Humor, Attempt at Humor, Lots of Angst Actually, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 18:05:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazilylazy/pseuds/lazilylazy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Niall is a uni student by day and a struggling musician by night. One day, Zayn, who is studying English at the same school, enters the bar Niall is playing at and they end up going home together. What happens when Zayn is already in a relationship with someone else?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Closer

[Closer](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1tOaQsNa5Js)

 

Niall James Horan wanted nothing more in the world than the opportunity to spend the rest of his life playing music. That was his true passion, his real calling. But at the age of 20, it seemed that the universe wasn’t ready for him to become a rock star, not just yet. So far the time being, the Irish lad was stuck at University studying music engineering, playing at various pubs, bars, coffee shops, and clubs to make a little extra money on the side. As small and seemingly unimportant to the world these gigs were, Niall truly lived for them. Being up on stage, just him and either his acoustic or electric guitar, singing everything from The Grateful Dead and The Beatles to Fall Out Boy and Robbie Williams, gave him the greatest of rushes. Even if he never made it big, Niall was happy he ever got to be on any stage, no matter how small.

Tonight, he was playing at a smoky little pub a couple blocks from the University of West London, where he went to school. It was just about midnight and the following act had never showed, so the owner offered to pay him double to continue playing until 2 am, which is how long the live music was scheduled to play. Niall didn’t mind in the least bit: the crowd had been pretty supportive that night, cheering and calling out their favorite songs for him to play on his acoustic guitar. A couple of patrons had even bought him a couple pints and if there was one thing that made the Irishman happy, it would definitely be a large frothy mug of good beer.

“If Heaven and Hell decide that they both are satisfied, Illuminate the ‘No’s’ on their vacancy signs,” Niall softly sings into the microphone, strumming the chords easily. The Death Cab for Cutie song is one of his absolute favorites, and he gets chills from hearing the crowd singing along with him, swaying tipsily in their seats. “If there’s no one beside you when your soul embarks, Then I will follow you into the dark. Then I will follow you into the dark.”

Niall lets the last chords linger as the pub-goers whistle and clap, calling out for more. He grins widely to himself. This is exactly what he wants: an audience that gets involved and vocalizes their opinions.

“You want another song?” The cheers of the crowd seem to mean yes to him. “Alrighty then, here’s Closer by Nine Inch Nails.”

Niall turns to fiddle with his guitar strap and adjust his seat, and when he looks up, his breath is completely taken away. Because just as he is about to play the opening chords of the song, an incredibly gorgeous boy walks through the door. No, not a boy, a man. A perfect man with dangerously sharp cheekbones, glorious olive skin, and piercing hazel eyes. The Adonis walks in and looks around a little bit, surveying the room, before making his way over to the bar where he lowers himself gracefully onto one of the barstools.

For a second, Niall forgets where he is and what he is supposed to be doing, so mesmerized by the mystery patron who is currently ordering some sort of drink for himself. Niall shakes his head, trying to clear his mind and fumbling to remember the chords that he was so sure he knew by heart. Gulping, he starts to play, finding it difficult not to look over at the bar every few moments to make sure the beautiful bloke was still there.

“You let me violate you, You let me desecrate you”

As the blonde lad begins to sing the overtly sexual song, he watches the man at the bar slowly turn around in his stool to look at the stage, curious about the act.

“You let me penetrate you, You let me complicate you”

He takes a slow, deliberate sip of his drink, staring directly at Niall, unflinchingly studying him.

“Help me; I broke apart my insides, Help me; I’ve got no soul to sell”

Now the stranger is looking right into Niall’s eyes, frowning a little bit and refusing to break eye contact.

“Help me; the only thing that works for me, Help me get away from myself”

It’s all Niall can do to croak out the next lines: “I wanna fuck you like an animal!”

Did he really just bite his lip at that?

“I wanna feel you from the inside, I wanna fuck you like an animal”

And now the stranger is staring unabashedly, and, oh God, he is definitely smirking. Why the fuck is he smirking like that?

“My whole existence is flawed, You bring me closer to God”

For the rest of the song, Niall tries his best to look away from the dark eyes gazing at him from across the smoky pub, and finds he is fighting a losing battle. When he finally finishes the song, he snaps out of the staring contest and blushes at the audiences cheers. For the next two hours, Niall stares everywhere in the pub except into the hazel eyes at the bar: he becomes quite familiar with the pictures of old bands on the bar wall, the brass knob of the front door, and the very large chest of the lady sitting right in front of him. But throughout Rock You Like A Hurricane, Sugar Magnolia, and Hotel California, Niall can still feel unwavering eyes boring a hole through his face.

When he finally closes his set at 2 am with a: “Thank you all for a great night! You’ve been amazing!”, Niall takes his time unplugging his guitar from the amp, putting it in his case, and greeting the people who come up to admiration him. He can still feel eyes following his every move as he thanks the owner for his commission and the complimentary drink he can get at the bar. Slowly, Niall makes his way over to get his free shot and tentatively takes a seat a couple of stools away from his admirer. He quickly downs the whiskey placed in front of him and orders another, before turning to see that the lovely fellow has moved and is now sitting right next to him.

“I’m Zayn,” he says, grinning as Niall flushes and hastily drinks the second shot, grimacing as the fiery liquid runs down his throat. “And you are?”

“Niall Horan,” he answers after a moment’s hesitation, shaking the delicate hand offered to him.

“You sang absolutely beautifully tonight,” Zayn compliments him, motioning to the bartender to pour them two more shots. “Especially that first song I heard, the one about animal sex? You could really hear the raw emotion in your voice.”

Niall almost chokes on his third shot, hardly believing his ears. Is this guy actually serious? The raw emotion in his fucking voice? “Uh, thank you. Yeah, it’s one of my favorites.”

“I bet it is,” the beautiful young man says, smoothly downing his own shot, then signaling for another round. “It’s certainly one I won’t be able to forget about,” he says with a wink, laughing at Niall’s blush.

Three more shots of whiskey later, Zayn and Niall are openly flirting with one another. They don’t reveal much personal information; Niall only learns that the boy is English-born Pakistani from Bradford, is studying literature at UWL, and lives just two blocks away from the pub. Somehow, Niall is agreeing to go see the lad’s flat, drunkenly grabbing his guitar from where he left it behind the stage and running up to the door, taking Zayn’s hand and following him out of the bar, into the night.

***

When they get to Zayn’s building, Niall abruptly gets nervous. What in hell is he actually doing, going home with a boy he’s never met before? But when they get into the elevator and Zayn’s lips are suddenly on his, all anxious thoughts and feelings leave the blonde lad’s mind instantly. Because Zayn is really, really good at this. There are good kissers, and then there is Zayn. He smoothly massages his lips over Nialls, running his tongue gently along his bottom lip, before easing back and placing a little nibble where his tongue just was. Niall can’t help but drop his guitar with a moan, and grab onto the skinny boy, pulling Zayn towards him and trying not to show how much this all turns him on. When Zayn’s lips leave his mouth and latch onto Niall’s pale, sensitive neck, it’s all he can do but lean up against the wall of the lift and try not to moan to loudly, hoping Zayn can’t feel how hard he’s gotten through the denim material of his jeans.

The lift shudders to a stop and Zayn’s lips leave Niall’s neck, grabbing his hand and pulling him through the doors, down the hall, and to his place. He fumbles with his keys a little before pushing open the door of a very clean, very posh apartment. The entire place is very minimally decorated, a lot of white on white, not the type of place you’d expect to find a uni student.

“Fancy place,” Niall mutters, taking in the white leather furniture and glass coffee table in the decent-sized living room, before peering into the stainless steel kitchen. “Very fancy place indeed.”

“My roommates really big into the whole minimalism thing,” Zayn shrugs, taking off his leather jacket and hanging it in the closet by the door. He looks at Niall’s awe-struck face and says, “It’s really not that great.”

“Then you should never see my place. My roommate is a complete slob,” Niall says, shaking his head a little. Before he can comment anymore on the noticeable lack of dirt or mess anywhere, Zayn’s lips are once again on his, and, once again, Niall is finding it difficult to think of anything else.

The Pakistani boy gently pushes his guest down the hall, into a bedroom, and down onto the full-sized bed occupying most of the small room. Niall looks up as Zayn removes the plainblack v-neck he is wearing, revealing a chest full of tattoos, licking his lips slightly at the sight.

“Like what you see?” Zayn smirks, removing his skin-tight dark jeans, before jumping onto the bed and straddling the shocked blonde.

“I like your chest,” is all that stupidly exits Niall’s mouth as Zayn chuckles and pulls off Niall’s t-shirt, placing little kisses and nips over the pale skin he exposes. When Zayn grinds his hips down, Niall can’t stop the embarrassing groan that escapes his mouth as he bucks his own hips up, craving more friction. Zayn laughs again, enjoying the look of pleasure on Niall’s face as he swiftly pulls down both jeans and boxers.

Zayn bends down to kiss Niall’s exposed head, whispering “You’re a pretty boy, aren’t you.” Before Niall can respond, Zayn has taken him entirely into his mouth, expertly swirling his tongue around the rock hard shaft and head, bobbing up and down rhythmically. Niall can hardly believe what is happening: no one has ever sucked him this good before, no one has ever made him want to come so fast, no one has ever made these kind noises come out of his mouth so liberally before. He’s pretty sure he’s never been this hard before, absolutely certain he won’t last much longer at this rate.

“Oh God, Zayn, I’m going to come, I’m about to…”

And of course at his words, Zayn releases his dick with a satisfying little pop, crawling up to stop the whine escaping Niall’s lips with a deep kiss. “No you aren’t, love, not just yet,” he growls, holding Niall’s wrists above his head so he can’t touch himself. “If I’m going to get you off, I’m going to do it properly.” And with that, Zayn gives him one last peck on the lips before crawling off the grumbling boy to get something out of the little nightstand next to the bed. He comes back with a bottle of lube and a condom, squirting some of the cold, slippery substance onto his fingers, then settling himself between Niall’s open legs.

“I’m gonna prep you, yeah? Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs as he motions for the blonde boy to bring his knees up to his chest and lift his white ass into the air. At Niall’s hasty nod, Zayn gently touches his entrance with one slick finger, grinning at the boy’s gasp. Gradually, he slips the finger into the lad, making sure Niall is ok, before slowly pumping the finger in and out of him, watching the boy wither beneath him with a smile on his face. “You like that don’t you, Niall?”

“More… please, more,” is all that Niall can pant out, trying to push himself deeper onto the solitary finger. The second finger gets Zayn a loud groan, the third gets him a little cry, and when he crooks all three fingers and finds Niall’s prostate, the sob Niall emits has Zayn groping his much-neglected dick through his tight boxers. He continues to scissor his fingers inside of Niall, trying not to enjoy the sight of the boy tightly fisting the bedspread, legs quivering with excitement, red leaky cock lying exposed on his stomach.

When neither of them can take it any longer, Zayn takes away his fingers, swooping down to give Niall a fierce kiss while speedily removing his boxers, rolling on the condom, and slicking his dick up with lube faster than he knew he could. Poising himself before Niall’s now open pink hole, Zayn pauses for a second, wondering if he is actually going to do this, if he is actually going to fuck the boy in front of him. One look at Niall’s pleading blue-eyes is all it takes for Zayn to carefully push himself into the eager boy. He goes slowly at first, stopping to let Niall adjust to the fullness, then rocking himself in and out, in and out.

“Zayn, ugh… Zayn you need to go faster, I need you faster,” Niall begs, wrapping his legs around Zayn’s back and trying to pull him deeper in. “Please Zayn.”

And who is Zayn to resist Niall’s pleading? He picks up his pace with a grunt, placing his hands on either side of the blonde head underneath him, leaning over to get a better angle. When Niall suddenly stops making sounds, Zayn thinks he’s done something wrong, but one look at the squeezed shut eyes and the pretty little open mouth tells him that he is doing exactly what he should be doing. Smiling to himself, Zayn latches his mouth to Niall’s smooth neck, leaving love bites up his jawline and down to his collar bone.

Before long, both boys can barely hold out any longer. Niall says it first: “Zayn… I need to… Zayn, please,” he whimpers, reaching around to grab his leaking cock in his fist.

“Yeah,” Zayn pants, “Come for me, babes. You’ve been such a good boy, haven’t you, getting all worked up for me. You like it when I fuck you, don’t you babes? Like taking my cock like this. And now I want you to come, so of course you’ll come for me, won’t you Niall? Won’t you Niall?”

And with that, the blonde boy releases himself all over his stomach, crying out Zayn’s name mindlessly. The spectacle below him has Zayn coming soon after, carelessly thrusting into Niall’s shuddering body, slowing down to ride out his orgasm.

Zayn shakily collapses next to Niall, looking over at the boy who is erratically gasping for breath. “So, how was that, love?”

Niall laughs loudly at that, turning to face Zayn with a huge smile stretched over his pink face. He lifts one hesitant hand to stroke Zayn’s hot cheek, saying, “I’m pretty sure you know how it was, Zayn.” With another giggle, Niall moves to get up off the bed, but is stopped by a strong grip on his arm.

“Don’t leave just yet, please? Stay the night. If you want.”

Niall smiles again and nods, lying back down and curling himself up into Zayn’s side. The other boy wraps his arms around Niall’s waist, tucking the blonde head into his neck and holding him tightly until they both fall fast asleep.

***

The next morning, Niall wakes up in an unfamiliar room in an empty bed, confused at his surroundings until he remembers what happened the night before: Zayn. With a smile, Niall gets up, puts on his discarded clothes, and wanders out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. He finds Zayn in there in only his boxers, putting frozen waffles into the toaster.

“Morning,” Niall says as Zayn turns around to look at him.

“Good morning to you too,” Zayn replies, grinning a little. “I made us breakfast. I mean, I don’t really cook but I felt Eggo was good enough?”

“Sounds perfect to me,” Niall smiles, realizing he’s absolutely starving. And in desperate need of a wee. “Can I use your bathroom?”

“Yeah sure, it’s down the hall, to the right.”

Niall walks back down the hall and opens the first door to find a small laundry area. He closes it and opens the second door to find the bathroom, as clean and tidy as the rest of the flat. After he flushes the toilet, Niall examines himself in the mirror: his hair is completely messed up, his Ramones t-shirt wrinkled, and there is a trail of dark bruises running down his neck and collar. He tries to fix up his hair but gives up, kind of liking the sex hair look.

Exiting the bathroom, Niall notices there are only three doors in the hall: the toilet, the laundry, and Zayn’s bedroom. Which is strange because Niall definitely remembers Zayn mentioning a roommate.

“Hey Zayn, where does your roommate sleep?” Niall asks nosily as he walks back into the main area, wandering into the living room.

“What’s that?” Zayn calls from the kitchen.

“Your roommate,” Niall says again, looking at some of the pictures he hadn’t noticed the night before scattered artfully on a little glass end table. “Where does he sleep?” The pictures are all of Zayn and a very handsome looking man with short brown hair and kind brown eyes; probably the roommate.

“Uh… Well he sleeps wherever he likes, I suppose.” Zayn answers tensely from the kitchen. Niall barely hears him, eyes alighting on a picture of the two men in a restaurant, arms draped over each other, eyes shining brightly. It’s the sort of picture a couple would take, like proof of their happy relationship. Something isn’t right. Something is very wrong.

“Zayn…” Niall starts to say, but he stops when he hears the sound of a key unlocking the front door. He looks up to see Zayn staring back at him, frozen where he stands in the kitchen door, holding a plate of waffles. Niall barely catches the words “I’m so sorry” that Zayn breathes out of his dazed mouth, before the door is swung open and the man from the pictures comes in, smiling widely, arms full of luggage.

“Hello love,” this new chap says, dropping his bags and going up to kiss Zayn firmly on the mouth. He grabs a waffle and takes a bit of it before turning to look at Niall. “And who might this be?” he says with a smile, looking back at his dumbfounded boyfriend questioningly.

Yes, there is definitely something wrong with this situation.


	2. Kreuzberg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall realizes he may have feelings for Zayn, and even though Zayn tries to explain himself... Well, at the end of the day he still has a boyfriend. Introduction of Louis and Liam!
> 
> So this is a very angsty chapter, full of feelings and revelations and difficult decision. It's not the most interesting chapter, but it's neccesary! I promise the next chapter will be a lot funner and a lot smuttier xx

[Kreuzberg](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VlBKPZy16XI)

 

When Niall finally makes it back to his apartment building, it is all he can do to not collapse as soon as he makes it onto the elevator. Zayn has a boyfriend. Zayn Malik with the glorious body and piercing eyes and lovely, lovely hands has a fucking boyfriend. Zayn has a boyfriend, and that boyfriends name is Liam Payne. Liam Goddamn Payne. What the actual fuck kind of name is Liam Payne? Well, it’s the kind of name that Zayn fucking Malik’s boyfriend would have. Because Zayn, the guy he met in a bar, the guy he fucked last night, the guy who let him sleep in his arms all night, that guy has a fucking boyfriend.

Niall is definitely in shock.

After Liam Goddamn Payne, Zayn Malik’s boyfriend came through the door, back early from visiting his parents in Wolverhampton, Niall just stood there, numbly listening to Zayn prattle off some bullshit story about finding a very drunk Niall in the pub’s bathroom after his set was over. Apparently Niall had hooked up with some bloke in the bathroom, which is why he was covered in hickey’s, and Zayn had felt bad for the poor boy, because he had been abandoned there all by his lonesome. So, being the kind wonderful human being he was, Zayn had taken Niall home with him, letting him sleep off his hangover in his and Liam;s bed and taking the couch for himself. Liam, being the lovely and understanding boyfriend he was, had praised Zayn’s thoughtfulness and invited Niall to stick around for breakfast, not taking no for an answer.

Over frozen waffles and coffee, Niall learned that Liam was also 20, and was also attending UWL, studying Kinesiology in the hopes of being a Physical Therapist someday because Liam values ‘health and happiness above all else’ (his words, no lie). He and Zayn had met two years previously on their first day of uni and had been ‘absolutely inseparable ever since’ (once again, Liam’s words; Niall couldn’t help but notice Zayn’s lack of enthusiasm about their inseparability). To conclude their happy tale, the couple had agreed to move in at the start of term a few weeks ago, deciding that it was time to take the next step in their very successful relationship.

But the absolute worst part of it all was that Liam seemed like a really good boyfriend and a really good person all around. For example, Liam had picked up Zayn’s dry-cleaning on the way back from the train station because he knew Zayn would forget to; he had gone back home in the first place because his older sister was upset over the passing of her dog and he had wanted to be there for the funeral; and he had come home on Saturday instead of Sunday because he missed Zayn so much and had wanted to surprise him. All the smiling and laughing and gentle looks and the light squeezes made Niall want to throw up. It was way too much sap to handle so early in the morning.

Finally, after an hour of cheery conversation, Niall declined invitations to go to the museum with the two lovebirds, claiming he needed to sleep off the rest of his hangover and the six waffles he had managed to wolf down. He had managed to grab his guitar, exit the flat, walk the three blocks to his own building, and stumble through the front doors before almost losing it in the lift. Because Zayn had a boyfriend and Niall was absolute positively freaking out about it.

***

“Hello Nialler! You look like absolute shit today,” is how Louis greets his roommate when the blonde boy finally succeeds in dragging his exhausted body into his disorderly apartment. Louis is Niall’s best friend at uni, a 21 year old brunette who has just graduated with a degree in Theatre Arts and who has decided to stay in London to pursue his acting career instead of moving back to his native Doncaster. The boy was absolutely insane: every day with Louis was a new adventure and Niall would never let him know how happy he is that he decided to stay, especially seeing how Niall’s life would be infinitely more boring without him. Usually, just the sight of Louis’ goofy grin could get Niall smiling, but not today. Nope, today he is definitely not in the mood for whatever Louis has up his inane little sleeve.

“Shut up, Lou,” Nial groans, dropping his guitar by the door and plopping on the old couch next to the older boy, knowing that he probably does look like shit, but not wanting to hear it at the moment. “It’s been a long day and I’d appreciate it if you could keep quiet for once in your life.”

“Niall Horan, you surprise me!” Louis clutches at his heart, faking shocked horror. “First, you don’t come home last night, nor call to reassure your poor worried house fellow of your whereabouts and safety. Then, you show up in a disheveled state and, instead of dutifully telling me how you got those ungodly love bites, you shush me and complain about what a hard day it’s been, even though it’s only noon. I don’t even know who you are anymore!” he finishes with a flourish, dramatically throwing himself against the sofa-arm, burying his head in his arms as he shakes his body with fake sobs. There’s a reason the lad studied Drama in uni.

With a sigh, Niall reaches over to grab his melodramatic roommate by the shoulders and bring him in for a cuddle. “Would you like me to tell you about my night Louis?”

“Yes please!” Louis chirps, snuggling in and looking up into Niall’s unsatisfied face expectantly. Seven minutes later, after Niall has recounted his sad tale, Louis’ face is shining with wonderment because, honestly right at this moment, Niall’s life is better than a soap opera. And Louis lives for drama like this. His poor Niall looks absolutely wrecked and Louis can’t remember the last time he got so much raw emotion out of the generally cheerful lad; this is not an opportunity to be missed.

“Wow.” Louis says when Niall wraps up his story. “So you just ate breakfast with them, like you didn’t give Zayn one the night before?”

“Yep.”

“I bet your acting skills were on point!”

“Yes Louis, I owe all my success to you,” Niall replies, rolling his eyes because of course Louis would push the conversation back to his amazingness.

“Wow, that is… That is really something. So you don’t think this Liam bloke suspected anything at all?”

“Nope, he really thought Zayn had fished me out of the depths of despair in the pub and taken pity on my poor lonely soul. Nothing more.”

“And Zayn never mentioned a boyfriend or live-in lover of any sort?” Louis probes as Niall fidgets next to him. “Perhaps you forgot amongst all the flirting and simultaneous orgasms?”

“I’m pretty sure I would’ve noticed if he’d said anything about having a totally fit, completely perfect boyfriend.” Niall says, frustrated by the entire debacle. Untangling himself from Louis’ clutches, he makes his way to his untidy room, ignoring Louis’ questioning expression. A nice long nap sounds like the perfect way to forget all about the beautiful lad who is probably cuddled up with fitness-trainer Liam in a cab on their way to some upscale art museum right now. Louis follows him into the bedroom, but for once doesn’t say anything as Niall rips off his shirt and jeans before collapsing into bed in only his boxers. He just stays in the doorway and watches as Niall tries to get comfortable, keeping quiet until the blonde lad finally stops fidgeting.

“You really like him, don’t you love?”

Niall’s only response to such a question is to jam his pillow over his head and reach blindly for his covers

“Well, Niall,” Louis says carefully, walking over and pulling up the comforter from the floor onto Niall’s pale body. “If the little fucker really thought he could use you, he’s got another think coming, okay? You’re worth better than that, and I’m truly sorry this happened to you. Just remember, there’ll be other boys in other pubs who will love your music even more and will fuck you even better than this stupid Zayn guy.”

With a little laugh, Niall thanks Louis by lifting the pillow off his face and leaning up to give him a kiss on the forehead, before plopping back down into his pillow, determined to sleep it all off. Who knows, by the time he wakes up, maybe he won’t even remember who Zayn Malik even is.

***

At around 5 pm, Niall is woken up by the sound of Louis yelling. At first, he assumes he’s on the phone with someone and is arguing about either the credibility of Shakespeare or the major differences between stage and screen acting, typical Louis things. Then he realizes someone is arguing back, not as loudly or as wildly, but still firm and belligerent.

“You are most certainly not going back there! How did you even find out where he lives?” Louis shouts as Niall listens in groggily, half curious about what’s going on, half wanting to sleep just a little bit longer.

“I’ll go back there if I want, and if you must know I nicked one of his business cards from his guitar last night.” Something about the second voice sounds very familiar, but Niall is too lazy to try and place it. This is probably about him, he thinks to himself lethargically, but he still can’t get himself interested enough to leave his bed.

“Well isn’t that dandy! Not only are you a cheater, a liar, and a scumbag, you’re also a snoop and a thief!” Wait a second…Niall thinks, listening closer now.

“I never lied to him, yeah, I just forgot about a couple little details is all.” But… that would make no sense, what would he be doing here?

“Oh yeah, because having a boyfriend is a little detail most people happen to forget about before bringing another boy home!” Now Niall’s head shoots up out of the pillow. Oh God. It can’t be. I really cannot be…

“Look, I didn’t mean for it to be like that! I didn’t think Liam would be home until Sunday or else it would’ve never happened.” No way. No fucking way is this happening right now.

“Ah I see. So if you knew your little boyfriend would be home today, you wouldn’t have fucked my roommate silly, huh? How decent of you, Mr. Malik, you deserve a medal for your consideration!” Niall’s head is spinning and he can’t take it anymore. Zayn is in his apartment. Zayn Malik actually stole a business card out of his guitar case and ditched a date with his perfectly fit boyfriend to come to his dirty little apartment to argue with one Louis Tomlinson about the ethics of one night stands. Not that Niall cares at all, but still, he should probably check it out. Just to make sure everything is alright. Not because he wants to look at Zayn’s perfectly chiseled face once again. Nope, not at all. Just to make sure Louis doesn’t do anything stupid, obviously.

With a groan, Niall rolls out of the bed, tries to still the butterflies that flutter around his stomach, and patters into the living room where he finds a well groomed Zayn glaring fiercely at an energetic Louis who hasn’t stopped screaming about all the awards he is going to shove up the lad’s posh ass. “Louis,” Niall says quietly from behind him, and the older boy immediately stops yelling and both lads turn around to look at him.

“You’re still in your boxers, Nialler.” Louis says after a moment of awkward silence, giving him a once over. Oh God, he had completely forgotten about that. Not that he is going to let Zayn know how embarrassed he is, fighting to keep a blush from coloring his cheeks. No, he can do this, because he is cool, calm, and collected and doesn’t let silly things like walking around in only his boxers before his one-night-stand phase him.

“Well, everyone in this room has seen me naked, so I don’t think I care too much,” Niall declares brazenly before marching past a wide-eyed Zayn and into the kitchen, pleased at his little performance. He looks around for some food, suddenly starving. After all, he hasn’t eaten since that unfortunate breakfast earlier, and it has never been Niall’s habit to skip too many meals. Once he has poured himself a bowl of Coco Puffs with milk, he gathers his courage once more and makes his way back into the living room, where Louis and Zayn are still in the midst of their staring match, remaining completely silent this time. Niall sighs loudly, hiding how uneasy he is with exasperation, startling the two out of their trance. “So, is someone going to explain what’s going on in here?”

“You see, dear best friend of mine,” Louis starts of, dramatic as ever, ignoring Zayn’s theatrical eye roll, “This hooligan came by, demanding to see you, wanting to wake you up from your nap. And even though I tried to explain your tiredness and how unwanted his attentions are, he could not be dissuaded. I suppose his loudness is what woke you up, and for that I am truly sorry.”

“Now wait just a second,” Zayn cuts in, looking Niall straight in the eye, causing him to stop eating mid-spoonful, “I came here to apologize, yeah? Maybe I didn’t go about it the best way, but I do mean well. And if anyone woke him up, it was you with your incessant shrieking!”

Unsure of what to make of the dark-skinned boys seemingly sincere words, Niall slowly makes his way to their beat-up couch, sits down and continues slurping his cereal as he contemplates what it all means and ignores the bickering behind him. “What were you going to apologize for?” he asks, trying not to sound as restless and interested as he really feels. The two behind him fall quiet once again, and then Zayn is speaking, calculatingly and crisply.

“For being a complete twat,” Zayn admits, joining the blonde on the couch, gazing at him head-on. This definitely must be a Zayn thing, staring people in the eyes like that. Niall swears the boy never blinks, ever. “And for not telling you about Liam. And for the entire confusion this morning. I really am sorry about all of that, I really am.”

Niall takes the last bite of his cereal before deliberately putting down his bowl and spoon on their crowded wooden coffee table and rotating to look Zayn straight in the eye. “Why did you do it? Why cheat on him, and why me? Did you go into the bar looking for a lay and just decide on me? I really don’t understand. He really seems to love you, so why fuck all that up just to fuck with me?”

Zayn looks absolutely upset at the thought of answering these questions, absentmindedly stroking his hair which has been carefully styled into a quiff, before answering truthfully.

“I honestly don’t know why I cheated. It’s not like I went into the pub planning on picking someone up; this has literally never happened before, like I’ve never ever cheated before. I just walked in and all I saw was you and the way you sang and how into the music you were, and I suddenly realized how lonely I am. Liam’s amazing but… but sometimes perfection isn’t realistic, sometimes you want a boyfriend who makes mistakes sometimes, who isn’t so afraid of letting anyone down.

“So I was just sitting there listening to you play and something about it all made me want to talk to you. So I did, and I convinced myself that I was just getting to know you, like a friend or whatever. But you were so cute and funny and energetic and happy and so excited about life, I couldn’t help be attracted to you. Still can’t if I’m being honest with myself.” Zayn pauses for a second, licking his lips a little and giving his head a tiny shake before continuing. “I told myself it was harmless flirting, that it didn’t mean anything, but before I knew it we were headed back to mines. And the thing was, I wanted you so badly, Niall. You have no idea. Like, when I got you in my flat, for a split second I tried to really think about what I was doing, consider everyone’s feelings and do the right thing you know. Yet the next second I looked into your eyes and I forgot about everything else but you.”

“Wow,” Louis breathes from where he is perched leaning against the back of the couch, breaking the solemn mood of the room. “So you really do like him, don’t you Zayn?”

Zayn replies without ever removing his bright hazel eyes off of Niall’s blue ones: “I really, seriously, honestly believe I do.”

Niall doesn’t know what to do. Here is this beautiful lad with beautiful hazel eyes and beautiful dark hair and beautiful skin whose beautiful body and beautiful cheekbones only further compliment his beautiful smile and beautiful soul, and he wants Niall. He has just said so. But, said beautiful lad has a boyfriend. A beautiful boyfriend that picks up his boyfriend’s dry cleaning and keeps a spotless home and takes his boyfriend to museums so he can be cultured and informed. And why on earth would anyone want to give that up for messy, forgetful, constantly-hungry Niall? Why the fuck is Zayn being so persistent, and why the fuck is Niall this attracted to him? And how does Zayn know he likes him, so fast, so soon. No, this can’t happen. Niall will not be jerked around like this. He won’t be Zayn’s dirty mistress.

“Zayn, I appreciate the nice comments and all, but you have a boyfriend. A very nice boyfriend with a future, who loves you very much. You made a mistake with me, but that’s fine. Go home to Liam and we’ll all forget this happened, yeah?” Before Zayn or a gaping Louis can say a word, Niall gets up from the couch, forces a smile, and claps Zayn on the back. He grabs his bowl from the coffee table, strides hurridly to the kitchen to place it in the sink, and then walks back to his room, calling out a trembling “See ya, Zayn!” over his shoulder before the bedroom door closes behind him.

In the confines of his own familiar chaos, Niall can finally breathe, flopping down onto his bed and burying his face into his pillow, groaning heavily. He cannot believe that just happened. He seriously just sent actual Zayn Malik home, even after the boy confessed his actual attraction to actual Niall Horan. What has his life come to?

He turns on the iPod dock sitting on his night stand, appreciating the Bloc Party song that comes on when he presses shuffle:

After sex the bitter taste,  
Been fooled again the search continues…

How cleverly appropriate.

Sighing, Niall gropes around his bed for his phone, shooting off a text to Louis when he finally finds it: Let’s go out 2nite. I need 2 b massively drunk rite now. xx. Louis’ fast response let’s him know that the boy is probably sitting just outside in the hall, unsure of what to make of the whole state of affairs, and hoping that he is ok. Niall could care less really at this point; he’s just glad that Zayn Malik is out of his life for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Hope you enjoyed, I'll probably update very soon, I'm almost done with the third chapter. 
> 
> Also I've decided to name each chapter after a song that is played in the chapter and also makes sense to what's happening. Seriously, if you haven't listened to Kreuzberg by Bloc Party (or anything by Bloc Party; they're my favorite) you definitely should because it's great for this chapter!
> 
> So yeah, thanks for reading xxx


	3. Blurred Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall and Louis go out in attempt to get drunk and forget all about the whole Zayn dibocle. But guess who shows up to the party?
> 
> Introduction of Harry! And some of the band =]

[Blurred Lines](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yyDUC1LUXSU)

 

The party is in full swing when Niall and Louis arrive at their friend Josh’s apartment. They are greeted at the door with a strong bitter shot of God-knows-what, and ushered into a room full of plastered, horny, careless uni students. The music is way too loud and Niall can feel the bass pulse through his heart as the shot burns its way down his throat, jumping up and down in time with the rest of the frenzied crowd. This is exactly what Niall needs. He dances for some time, losing himself in the deafening remixes blaring from the speakers, when Louis grabs his arm, pulling him towards the kitchen and the rest of the much-needed alcohol.

“Heeeeeey!” a delightfully drunk voice yells in Nialls ear, the owner of the voice pulling him and Louis in for a bone-crushing hug. “Glad you lads could make it!”

Looking up into his friend Josh Devine’s face, Niall laughs, pulling the well-muscled boy back in for another cuddle. Josh attends UWL as well, a drummer majoring in Music Technology with Niall. His band, The No Names, was popular around campus and Josh himself was an all-around friendly, amiable guy. “Glad we could come, mate,” Niall shouts back while Louis gets busy making them some sort of crazy drink concoction involving orange juice, Mountain Dew, and quite a bit of vodka. Actually, it looks like it consists of almost only vodka, the perfect type of drink to get a sad Irish lad completely wasted. Taking his cup from Louis, Niall begins to sip on it, savoring the warmth he feels as it runs down his throat, talking to some of the other party-goers in the kitchen until he’s got a good buzz going. That’s when Josh insists on doing the Jell-O shots he so painstakingly made the night before, and four very strong cherry-flavored rounds later, Niall can happily say he is quite gone.

He wanders into the main dance area, gulping down the last of his drink and once again allowing the crowd to move him in time to the beating of the drums. This is absolutely perfect: a night full of drunken dancing with strangers, the perfect cure for any form of heartbreak, whether it be massive or tiny. Because, if Niall is going to be truthful with himself (and he really can’t help it in his current drunken state of being), he did think something could of happened between him and Zayn. Something would of happened, if it were at all possible, Niall is completely sure of that. There was something about the olive-skinned boy that he found irresistible, and he knows, if given the chance, he would have done his best to see the boy again.

But that is in the past and as Robin Thicke’s new song comes blasting over the speakers, Niall dances like there’s no tomorrow.

_If you can’t hear what I’m trying to say,_   
_If you can’t read from the same page_

Some buff bloke with a floppy hair cut comes up behind Niall, pressing his groin into his ass, and Niall is more than happy to grind on the stranger to the funky beat of the song, allowing him to wrap strong arms around his waist. Perfect. Niall loves dancing, drunkenly slinging his arm around the boy’s neck and clinging tightly as the song plays on.

_Maybe I’m going deaf,_   
_Maybe I’m going blind_

Niall looks up for one split second and almost chokes on his own spit. Because standing right across the room, red solo cup in hand, arm casually draped over his Goddamn boyfriend, is one motherfucking Zayn Malik.

_Maybe I’m out of my mind._

Gulping Niall’s stomach fills with butterflies, his head goes dizzy, and his mind is flooded with at thousand questions. What the fuck are they doing here? True, the party is full of students and the very popular Josh does have friends from all over the place. But come on, Zayn seriously had to come to this party? Of all the places he could’ve gone in the entire world, he had to be at Josh’s apartment? Obviously the universe is having a lot of fun at poor Niall’s expense. Luckily, he hasn’t been noticed yet, so Niall carefully maneuvers himself around so that he is now face to face with the guy he’s dancing on, rubbing their hips together, back towards Zayn. Now that he’s got a good look at the lad’s face, Niall decides he’s decently cute, nice smile, nice eyes, hopefully single. He doesn’t need Zayn; he could pull someone else if he wants to.

_Ok now he was close, tried to domesticate you_

“I’m Niall,” he shouts when the guys asks him his name.

_But you’re an animal, baby it’s in your nature_

“I’m Sandy, I’m in Josh’s band,” the boy yells back, struggling to be heard over the music, now content to hold Niall close, hands rubbing up and down his back, chin on his shoulder. Niall grips him tightly, looking over Sandy’s shoulder to watch Louis flirting with some curly-headed boy. They look pretty cute together, Niall decides, watching as the mystery boy laughs loudly at something Louis said.

_Just let me liberate you (Hey hey hey)_

“Are you single?” Niall blurts out. Where did that come from?

_You don’t need no papers (Hey hey hey)_

Thankfully, Sandy finds this amusing, throwing his head back and laughing before shouting back into his ear: “Nope, single as can be.” Good to know.

_That man is not you maker_

But then his line of sight is blocked by Zayn Malik’s perfect face. The well-styled boy is dancing by himself, staring right at Niall, mouthing the words in a way what can only be described as blatantly sexual. Oh dear Lord.

_And that’s why I’m gon’ take a good girl_   
_I know you want it_

God, he’s thrusting his pelvis a little, smirking at Niall’s blatantly open-mouthed shock. Hopefully he’s just drunk.

_I know you want it_

Now he’s rolling his hips, wiggling his eyebrows, and… fuck is he giggling?

_I know you want it_   
_You’re a good girl_   
_Can’t let it get past me_

The little tease downs the rest of his drink, tossing aside the empty cup before resuming his ridiculous yet somehow sensual dance, licking and biting his bottom lip.

_You’re far from plastic_   
_Talk about getting blasted_

Zayn starts to rub his abs through his plain white t-shirt, stopping to remove his black leather jacket (because it’s completely normal to wear a leather jacket in a hot, sweaty room whilst dancing) before continuing his little mating dance.

_I hate these blurred lines_   
_I know you want it_

Niall can feel his dick start to get hard.

_I know you want it_

No no no, this can’t be good. He can’t let this Sandy guy feel his boner.

_I know you want it_

But yes, he fucking wants it. He wants Zayn so badly right now. Ugh.

_But you’re a good girl_

Before he can stop himself, he shouts some excuse to Sandy about feeling sick, tearing himself away from the stunned boy, catching ahold of Zayn’s hand and stalking off towards the washroom.

_The way you grab me_   
_Must wanna get nasty_

He cannot believe he is actually doing this, whatever this is. Zayn seems to be enjoying himself, squeezing his hand and winking when Niall turns to look back at him. Swallowing hard, Niall pulls him faster through the crowd.

_Go ahead, get at me_

Niall shoves the other lad into the small room, before flipping on the lights and slamming the door shut behind him, cutting out the music and locking the door against the noise of the party.

“Hello, Niall. I didn’t know you’d be here to—”

Zayn fails to finish the rest of his snarky statement because Niall practically jumps on him, pushing him against the counter and fiercely kissing him on his dazed mouth. Niall grinds his leg in between Zayn’s legs, into his already bulging crotch, and immediately licks into Zayn’s mouth when he moans from the pressure. For the next few minutes the boys attack each other with eager mouths, for lack of a better word, grabbing each other’s skin and clothing, breathlessly and sloppily connecting lips and tongues, tasting the alcohol on each other’s breath. Zayn jumps up on the sink counter, roughly pulling Niall in-between his thin, jean-clad legs, fisting the blonde hair tightly and turning his head so he can attach his mouth on one of the bruises he had left there the night before.

Niall groans loudly: Zayn’s mouth is heaven on his damp, sweaty skin and Zayn’s tight little body fits so perfectly against his own. He wants to tell Zayn how wonderful he is but his mouth can’t form the words right now. So he pushes Zayn away from his neck, nipping at his red swollen lips a bit before lowering himself to his knees.

Niall unzips Zayn’s jeans, motioning for him to lift himself off the counter so he can pull the tight material down sweaty legs, quickly followed by equally tight briefs. Zayn is breathing heavily, staring down as Niall takes his very hard cock in hand and starts to stroke it gently.

“Niall?” he says breathlessly, question in his voice as he looks down at the blonde. But Niall just winks cheekily at him before licking a small stripe up the veiny shaft. He laps a little at the large head, teasing him, grinning at Zayn’s little moan, before taking the entire thing into his mouth. He deep throats Zayn’s dick, gagging a bit before slowly sliding his lips back, releasing the head with a little pop. He does that two more times, eyes watering a little, loving the gasps and whines coming from above him.

“Why are you so good at this?” Zayn whimpers, unsteadily running his fingers through Niall’s sweaty locks. “How’d you get so good, Niall?” In response, Niall hollows his cheeks, sucking hard, and is rewarded with a hair pull and a throaty growl. Truth is, Niall likes doing this. He likes the weight of a cock on his tongue, likes seeing how much he can take into his mouth, absolutely loves when his partner vocalizes his appreciation. And Zayn is just perfect to suck off. He cries out and moans the entire time, tugging on Niall’s hair and whining every time his expert lips leave his tingling dick.

Niall can tell Zayn is close because the boy gets oddly quieter, breathing too hard to make any sort of coherent noise other than choked gasps and rasps. Niall grasps Zayn’s balls in one hand, fondling them gently as he picks up the pace, bobbing his head as fast as he can. Very soon after, Zayn comes hard, hunched over, hissing Niall’s name, holding the blonde’s head in place so he can shoot the entire load down his throat. When Niall finishes swallowing every last drop, he stands up, surveying the wreckage he created. Zayn clutching the counter, knuckles white, his once stiff quiff flopping over his damp forehead, eyes dark with lust, swollen lips slightly parted as he tries to catch his breath. He is still bent over, shirt soaking wet with sweat, sticking to his skin and showing every contour beneath. His pants and underwear are still on the floor, limp dick poking out from between his skinny, sweaty legs.

All in all, Zayn looks quite finished. It’s pretty fucking hot.

Realizing what he just did, Niall starts to laugh. And he can’t stop, he just laughs and laughs and laughs hysterically, sitting down on the floor against the door, wheezing a little bit because he can’t catch his breath. He was supposed to be done with Zayn Malik forever, or so he told himself that afternoon. So of course he ends up giving him head in his friends bathroom while Zayn’s perfect boyfriend is just on the other side of the door. Of course. What the fuck, universe.

Finally, regaining control of himself, Niall stands up, adjusts his clothing, fixes his hair a bit, and marches out of the bathroom back into the deafening noise of the party, leaving Zayn speechless and half-naked to fend for himself. Just because Zayn can seduce a blow job out of him doesn’t mean he’s going to stick around for a cuddle, a clean-up, and another heart wrenching discussion of feelings. Nope, he has too much dignity for all that crap, no matter how nice cuddling sounds right now. It’s currently about 2 in the morning and the party is still going strong, although some have left to either get some late night food or hook up with someone they met that night. Niall notices that Sandy isn’t around, sighing a little because he gave up a certain and adorable lay for a taken boy. What an idiot he is. He makes his way to the emptier, quieter kitchen, pouring himself three shots of tequila and taking them in rapid succession, recognizing he would like to be a lot more wasted than he is at present.

A strong but gentle hand grabs his arm while he’s wincing from the last burning shot, shaking his head to try and get rid of the fiery feeling. Niall turns around to find Liam Goddamn Payne looking at him, smiling slightly and looking both composed and pleasantly surprised. What the hell is his life?

“Niall!” Liam greets him, clapping him on the back. “How are you mate?”

“Good, good,” Niall mumbles, frowning slightly at the spinning room. “What’re you doing here?” he asks, slurring the words somewhat and trying to regain his unexpectedly shaky balance.

“My mate Josh invited me,” Liam replies, grabbing Niall’s arm to steady him. Why is he such a freaking gentleman all the damn time? He doesn’t even seem drunk at all. “I sing for his band sometimes.”

And that’s just great, because now Liam is not only handsome, kind, smart, sweet, athletic, physically fit, clean, and thoughtful; he also must be a really good, really talented singer. Niall knows Josh wouldn’t let just any old random sing in his group, wanting to make it big someday just like Niall. So Liam must be pretty exceptional to pass Devine’s harsh standards and sing for The No Names. Groaning, Niall wrenches his arm away from an amused Liam, sitting down in one of the kitchen chairs.

“Not feeling so well? Probably shouldn’t be drinking so much after having so much the night before,” Liam asks, bending over the Irishman with apprehension, trying to access his condition. Niall shoo’s him away, laying his head on the kitchen table and ignoring the concerned boy. “Well, I suppose I’ll leave you to it,” Liam says finally, patting Niall on the back before turning to head back to the party.

“Oh, you haven’t happened to see Zayn anywhere,” Liam says, pausing at the doorway.

Lifting his head, Niall studies Liam’s earnest face. He really is a nice guy, sincere in his attempts to come to Niall’s aid, and obviously caring a lot about his wayward boyfriend. Niall feels like absolute shit for even looking in the brunette’s kind face after what he’s done, so he looks down at his hands as he answers: “I think I saw him head into the bathroom awhile back.”

“Cheers, mate,” Liam says, giving him one more smile before going to look for his lover.

Niall puts his head back down on the table, squeezing his eyes tight and willing the world to stop spinning. When did he turn into this crazy boyfriend-stealer? He isn’t being himself. Normally, Niall is a care-free, easy-going, happy boy, whose greatest worry is what he’s going to eat next. If anyone had ever told him he would ever end up in this awful situation, he would have laughed in their face; this isn’t him at all. Promising himself this will never happen again, that he’ll go back to being his crazy laid-back self as soon as he’s sober again, Niall falls asleep.

***

A small hand strokes his hair, softly waking him up, and he hears Louis whisper: “Hey there, Nialler. Feeling ok? We’re gonna get going, ok?” Nodding grumpily, Niall allows the small boy to drag him to his feet and push him out of the kitchen, through the almost-noiseless, practically-vacant common area, and out the front door of the apartment. He barely notices that there is another boy with them, the same curly-haired lad from before, ignoring him as he pushes onto the elevator, stomach churning from the short walk. When they get to the parking lot, Niall runs behind a car and pukes, emptying his stomach and trying not to fall over.

“Wow, Niall, how much did you drink?” Louis says, coming over to make sure his roommate is ok. Niall just shakes his head, throwing up again as Louis wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Well, I can’t have you walk home in this condition now can I.”

“I could always carry him,” a slow deep voice drawls from somewhere behind where Niall is hunched over; Louis’ friend he guesses.

“No, he’s a lot heavier than he looks.”

“Hey!” Niall moans, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and turning around to glare at the older lad. “Did you just call me fat?”

“Not fat, Blondie,” Louis says, rolling his eyes, “Just too heavy for Harry here to carry you six blocks homes.”

Niall just grunts, pushing past Louis to sit on the curb, head between his knees, fighting the dizziness. Harry and Louis start to argue whether it’s better for them to risk it and walk home, call a cab, or simply ask Josh if they can stay the night. Then out of nowhere, an all-too familiar friendly voice joins the conversation.

“We can drive you home, if you need us to.”

Liam Goddamn Payne. Again. Niall lifts his head, just to confirm his suspicions and sure enough, there he is, smiling kindly as he talks to Louis, supporting a half-asleep Zayn. And of course Zayn’s sloshed, sleepy eyes immediately find Niall’s. They stare at one another for a long moment before Niall slumps down on the pavement, letting out a tortured cry because, once again, the universe is out to get him.

Liam peers over at Niall who is sobbing erratically on the sidewalk, and turns to ask Louis: “Is he alright?”

“Just drunk,” Louis replies, waving his worry off. “Pretty sad if you ask me. I though the Irish could hold their liquor better than that.”

Niall ignores him, covering his face with his hands and cursing his existence. Louis and Liam continue to talk, finally agreeing that Liam will drive them all home and in return, Louis agrees to buy him a snack from McDonald’s along the way. What type of deal is this? Niall just wants to stay on the curb and sleep there til morning, not get in the car with these fools and stop to get a fucking meal.

But he is given no say or choice in the matter, because strong arms are grabbing at him, picking him up bridal style and carrying him to Liam’s sensible Prius. Niall refuses to open his eyes as he is being carried, almost certain that he’s going to be upset to find out whose well-defined muscles are supporting his weight, and even when he is carefully folded into the back seat, he keeps his eyes closed, laying his head back on the seat. The rest of the lads get in, one on either side of him, the other two in the front. They set out, Liam tuning the radio to something poppy and fun as they head for the nearest fast food joint.

Whoever is in the front starts discussing football, avidly debating Manchester United’s defensive line and their chances of advancing at all this season. Niall starts to doze off, when the person to his right gently takes his hand, a thumb running over his knuckles and stroking his fingers lightly. Confused, Niall tilts his head to the side and cracks open his eyes: Zayn is sitting there, looking out the window, ignoring everything else in the car.

Niall closes his eyes once more, sighing a little before giving the warm hand he is holding a little squeeze, smiling a little when he gets a little squeeze in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I honestly have no freaking clue about where I'm going with this story, but I think I like the direction I'm headed? A bit smuttier, but I have the feeling the next chapter will be a lot more fluffy/angsty. We'll see.
> 
> As always feedback is wonderful! And I announce my updates on my tumblr: babyniallers.tumblr.com (cheesy url, I know, whatever)
> 
> Love you all! xx


	4. The Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall fesses up about what happened with Zayn, Louis is nervous about his upcoming play, and Niall finds himself with a date.

[The Way ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_sV0S8qWSy0)

 

The next morning, Niall wakes up thankfully in his own bed, naked except his boxers, with a splitting headache. He can feel a massive hangover coming on as he sits up, stomach growling, sniffing the air curiously: someone is definitely frying bacon in the apartment. Not one to pass up on bacon, or any food in general, he rolls out of bed, stiffly stretching out his muscles before heading towards the intoxicating smell. In the kitchen, he is greeted by the sight of Harry, clad only in the tiniest of underpants, manning a stove full of eggs, pancakes, sausage, and of course bacon.

 

“Good morning,” Niall greets him, a bit confused, but not one to complain about strangers in his kitchen if they plan on making him breakfast. “I was wondering who was cooking, seeing that Louis probably has never used anything but a microwave in his life,” he continues, taking a seat at the small kitchen table.

 

Harry chuckles, scooping two fried eggs, three pancakes, some sausage, and decent sized pile of bacon on a plate and placing it in front of the hungry lad. “No worries. I had to knock on your neighbor’s door to get sugar for the pancakes, but I think they turned out all right.” Niall tucks into the food and immediately decides Harry has to stay forever: the meal is absolutely heavenly. As he wolfs it all down, Louis stroll’s into the kitchen, limping a little bit like he’s been well done in for, still wet from the shower, dressed in jogger’s and a t-shirt.

 

“Morning lovers!” he calls out, giving Harry an affectionate kiss on the cheek in exchange for a plate of food. “You didn’t have to cook for us, Harry. We would have fared perfectly fine on cold cereal.”

 

“Nonsense,” Harry replies, ushering Louis to his seat at the table and bringing him a cup of tea. This boy was flawless. “Sunday brunch is a necessary staple for everyone, especially those who had a long night.”

 

Niall can’t help but agree, almost halfway through the enormous plate of food, already feeling his hangover begin to dissipate. He gives Louis a look that basically says ‘Let’s keep him,’ and the other boy nods emphatically, mouth full of eggs. Harry joins them shortly after, and easily strikes up a conversation about autumn time and some indie band he wants to take Louis to see and his love of photography. It seems like Harry just belongs there, like they were waiting to add him to their little table. Louis is practically glowing, and if that’s the effect Harry has on him, Niall has no problem with letting the green-eyed youngster hang out and cook for them.

 

Soon, they’re finished eating and Niall is so sure he’s gotten away with talking about the night before once Harry gets up to do the dishes (he insisted, honestly, and who are they to refuse the poor lad the joy of cleaning?) when Louis asks: “So, Niall, what happened to you last night?”

 

So much for avoiding that question.

 

“Well, I drank quite a lot,” Niall blushes, looking down in his lap and avoiding eye contact, knowing this won’t be enough to saturate Louis’ lust for gossip.

 

Louis gives an exaggerated sigh, leaning across the table to grab one of Niall’s hands. “Dear sweet innocent little Nialler, you know that’s not what I’m talking about. Something happened last night and I would like to know all about it.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lou.”

 

“Sure you know what I’m talking about!” Louis cries out, dramatically tossing aside Niall’s hand, and giving Harry an exasperated look. The tall boy just chuckles, amused at the little show going on. “For one thing, you were dancing with that one attractive bloke, and the next thing I know, you’re disappearing with Zayn. Then, you re-appear thirty minutes later with fresh love bites, completely drunk off your rocker. You start crying when Liam offers to drive us home, and Harry told me you and Zayn were holding hands in the back seat! And you’re trying to tell me nothing fucking happened? Bull shit, Horan, bull fucking shit!”

 

Niall shoots Harry a hard glare, who just shrugs, saying: “Louis mentioned you guys slept together or whatever, and I told him about the hand holding. Didn’t think it was a big deal.”

 

“Cheers, mate,” Niall mutters, suddenly re-thinking Harry’s place in their lives. Sighing, he looks into Louis’ impatient face, knowing he should just own up. “Ok, so basically I shoved Zayn into the bathroom, gave him mind-blowing head, left him there pants-less, took three shots of tequila, ran into Liam, felt guilty, then fell asleep on the kitchen table. And then you woke me up, I puked, they took us home and Zayn grabbed my hand in the car but that wasn’t my fault at least.”

 

Louis stares at him, open-mouthed, struggling to form coherent words. “You did _what_?!” he cries, reaching across the table to thump Niall on the forehead. “I mean I figured you guys just made out a little bit, but _mind-blowing head_? After the whole speech about him going back to his perfect boyfriend and the whole thing being a mistake, you decide that the best way to start over was to _blow him in the bathroom? While his boyfriend was in the next room_?”

 

At that, Niall gets up from the table, makes his way into the living room and throws himself on the couch, trying to ignore Louis continuing on about how rude it is to assume that your blow jobs are mind blowing. He fucked up. Massively. Once again, he had let Zayn’s irresistibility get to him. Jesus God, he had only met the boy two days ago; why was his life suddenly revolving around him?

 

He can faintly hear Harry scolding Louis in the kitchen: “That wasn’t very nice, now was it Boo?” he drawls in his slow deep voice. “He’s obviously very upset. Maybe you should apologize to him?” Louis splutters a little bit, pretending like he couldn’t be bothered, but then Niall hears the quiet patter of feet as Louis makes his way over to crouch in front of the couch. Niall keeps his eyes squeezed shut as Louis starts to talk.

 

“Niall, hon, I’m sorry,” he murmurs gently, running his hands through the messy blonde hair. “I was just surprised, is all. You seemed so adamant about no more Zayn yesterday, I truly thought you considered it all a mistake.” Louis takes a deep breath before admitting: “I only accepted his ride home because I wanted to see what this Liam character was like, and I took the front seat just to shove you and Zayn together, see what would happen. Thought the embarrassment could be a laugh. I didn’t realize you still felt for him.”

 

Niall opens his eyes at that, asking sharply, “What makes you say I still have feelings for him?”

 

“Uh, well you did give him oral in the toilet.” Louis says, rolling his eyes and pinching Niall’s nose lovingly. “That shouts feelings to me. Or at least lust. Or perhaps you had a case of the sluts? In any case, you’ve got it bad, babes.”

 

Niall buries his head in his arms, knowing that Louis’ right. So much for getting over it once sober. After Niall forgives him for his douche-like ways, Louis returns to the kitchen, chatting with Harry as he remains lying on the couch and considers his options. If he’s lucky, he’ll never see the Pakistani lad ever again. However, because he’s Niall and the unluckiest person alive, he’ll probably run into him every single day until he dies or magically turns straight. Finally, remembering the pile of revising he has to finish in his room, he pushes himself up off the couch, making his way to his room.

 

“Oh,” Louis calls out behind him, “I forgot to tell you. I kind of sort of might have perchance told Liam that it’s maybe feasibly ok for he and Zayn to possibly come to see my play this weekend.”

 

Niall considers burning Louis’ Grease DVD and maybe showing Harry his super angsty college diaries, but decides against it, too tired to care anymore, and stalks to his room, fuming, slamming the door closed behind him.

 

***

 

For the next week, Niall is kept busy with uni, revision, and a couple afternoon gigs at one of his favorite coffee houses. Louis brought him home Nando’s as way of apology and although chicken isn’t grounds to forget all he has done, Niall found himself more inclined to be kind to his roommate with his stomach full. Besides, he was excited for Louis’ acting debut, knowing how important the experience was to the budding thespian.

 

Louis had been cast in a decent-sized production of Shakespeare’s the Tempest, as the sprite Ariel, a great role for an actor with so little experience, straight out of school. For the past three weeks, he had been dutifully rehearsing, filling every waking moment speaking his lines, going over blocking, and constantly asking for feedback. Niall didn’t particularly mind, knowing that this was an amazing opportunity and that Louis had been working his ass off. So this last week before the start of the show in particular has been very stressful for the 22 year old, who is either in rehearsal or locked in his room memorizing lines, only emerging for food and to cry on Niall’s sympathetic shoulder.

 

“I can’t do it, Ni!” Louis cries Wednesday night, flinging himself on the blonde’s lap, who just manages to move his nachos of the living room couch before the small boy crashes on top of them. “I’m not good enough! I don’t know why anyone would ever think I could act! They obviously cast me just so I could fail and everyone will know I’m a failure and they’ll laugh at me and I’ll have to move to America and join a circus as a clown so no one will ever see my face again!”

 

Niall just strokes his brunette head and tries not to laugh too hard at Louis’ hysterics. “Why in hell would they ruin their production just to embarrass you, Lou? You’ll do great, trust me.”

 

“But what if I do awfully? It won’t just be you in the audience. There’ll be random patrons, and critics, and Harry!”

 

Niall had been unsurprised to hear that Louis had invited Harry to his opening night performance, actually looking forward to getting to know the boy better. He could tell Louis was most nervous about making a fool of himself in front of the younger lad, although Niall was pretty sure Harry would find anything Louis did to be amazing. “It’ll be great, yeah? And Harry will love it, the critics will love it, and everyone else there will love it! Not to mention, you’re perfect for the part!”

 

Louis sniffles a little, wiping wet eyes on his sleeves and looks into Niall’s smiling face. “You’re right, you’re right. I mean, I am a delightfully sprite-like boy. And I was the first one off-book. Besides, I didn’t sleep with the director, unlike the girl who got cast as Miranda.” He pushes himself off of Niall’s lap, throws back his shoulders, and shakes his head. “What was I thinking, I’m going to be amazing, thanks Ni!” And with that, he lightly prances back into his room, projecting his lines as he goes.

 

Chuckling, to himself, Niall turns back to the tv, where Ariana Grande’s music video is playing, singing along a little.

 

_I gotta bad boy, I must admit it (hey)_

_You got my heart, don’t know how you did it (hey)_

_And I don’t care who sees it babe_

_I don’t wanna hide the way I feel when you’re next to me_

 

The tune is catchy and Niall finds himself reaching for his guitar, which is lying next to the sofa. He starts strumming some of the chords, turning off the TV so he can concentrate on what he’s playing, trying to remember the words of the song.

 

_I love the way you make me feel_

_I love it, I love it_

 

He sings quietly to himself, unsurprised when a certain sharp-jawed face comes to mind. Even though he has repeatedly tried not to think about Zayn all week, and even though he should be too busy to be fantasizing about such things, he can’t help it. Niall has simply accepted the fact that no matter what he does, he won’t be able to stop picturing that face, no matter how hard he tries. Especially when singing a song like this. Niall did love the way Zayn made him feel. Too bad that will never happen again. Ever. Because Niall is strong and not an idiot and there are other guys out there for him. He can find someone else.

 

Sighing, he stops strumming and remembers that’s exactly what he told himself the last time.

 

***

 

It’s Thursday night and Louis’ play opens on Friday. So to release his nerves, Niall decides that what they need is to sit and relax with some friends and have a couple of laughs. He calls up Josh who invites them over for a night of FIFA and pizza. Perfect.

 

When they get to Josh’s, there are already a couple of other guys there, taking turns playing the video game and waiting for the pizza to arrive: Dan and Jon who are the guitarist and keyboardist in The No Names, respectively; Sandy, from the party; and surprisingly enough, Harry Styles, looking giddy and waving enthusiastically when they walk through the door. Louis perks up substantially at the sight of Harry, plopping himself on the floor right next to the curly-haired boy and immediately striking up a conversation.

 

Patting himself mentally on the back for a job well done, Niall greets the rest of the guys before eyeing Sandy who is sitting on the couch and kicking Dan’s ass at the game. He smiles hello and is pleased when Sandy pats the spot on the couch next to him, motioning for him to sit down with him. “Hey!”

 

“Hey, yourself! Nice to see you again,” Sandy says with a grin, passing him a controller and starting up a new game. “Sorry I never got the chance to say goodbye last Saturday, you just disappeared on me.”

 

Niall blushes, focusing a little too hard on the TV. “I drank a bit too much, got sick,” he replies with a shaky laugh. Fortunately, Sandy laughs as well, seeing right through Niall’s lies.

 

“It happens to the best of us, don’t worry.”

 

“But not to the Irish,” Niall says, shaking his head. “The Irish are supposed to be better than that!” And the conversation flows from there. For the next thirty minutes or so, Sandy and Niall continue talking, about football, music, school, and their favorite spots around the city. Niall is surprised at how easy it is. There is nothing difficult with single, cute, funny, bassist, _single_ Sandy. By the time the pizza arrives, Niall has made his mind up.

 

“Hey, um, I know this is pretty random and all…” he starts as they sit down with plates full of pizza.  “But would you like to come with me to see Louis’ show tomorrow? I mean it might not be the best of times, but it should be fun.”

 

“So like on a date?” Sandy asks before taking a large bite.

 

“Yeah, like on a date,” Niall replies, flushing a little. He didn’t actually think about it being a proper date until he realized he kind of wanted it to be one.

 

Sandy smiles hugely and nods vigorgously, mouth full of pizza. He swallows quickly and says, “Yeah, of course! It sounds like fun.”

 

“Great! I can pick you up around 6:30? And after we were thinking of going for drinks.” Niall says, relieved the boy said yes. He starts to wolf down his pizza happily, actually excited for once. He has a date for tomorrow. He won’t have to deal with Zayn and Liam on his own. He can work on moving on.

 

Life is good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Ok so I have no idea where I'm going with this, it'll probably end up being pretty long. And I promise there'll be more drama coming up!


	5. I Was Made For Lovin' You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys all go to Louis' opening night, Niall and Zayn try to make each other jealous, Niall manages to stay sober and Zayn get's absolutely wasted, Niall kisses Sandy, Zayn gets into a fight with Liam, and Niall lets him spend the night on the couch.

[I Was Made For Lovin' You](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmELf8DJAVY)

 

It was opening night and the only person more nervous than Louis, who had spent most of the day meditating and eating rice cakes in preperation, is Niall. For one thing, he has a date tonight with a cute boy, and on that date he will most likely be considerably close to a gorgeous guy he happened to do the do with and said gorgeous guy’s perfect boyfriend. He has to be interesting, witty, and funny to keep Sandy’s attention, and calm and collected around Liam and Zayn to not arouse suspicion. To top it all off, Louis is making him wear a damn blazer of all things.

 

“It’s uncomfortable and I can’t lift my arms above my head,” Niall complains, checking himself out in the bathroom mirror as Louis tut-tut’s behind him.

 

“It’s a fancy event, Niall. Just be glad I didn’t make you wear a full suit,” Louis says before giving his flustered roommate’s shoulder a little whack and making his way out of the bathroom. He’s supposed to be at the theatre soon, so he can do hair and make-up before the show starts, and frankly with the amount of preening Louis does on a daily basis, he should’ve left at least an hour ago.

 

Sighing, Niall does have to admit he does look good in a sport coat, no matter how constricting it may be. He convinced Louis that wearing dark jeans and a plain white button down was suitable and even managed to get away with wearing converse instead of dress shoes, though he still isn’t sure how he managed that one. With one last look to make sure his hair is styled appropriately, Niall exits the bathroom and enters his room, sitting on his desk chair and fiddling around on the computer until it’s time to leave. He wants to time this perfectly so that he arrives at Sandy’s at exactly 6:35 pm: just fashionably late enough to not seem too eager, and not too late to seem disinterested. At 6:22, Niall can’t wait any longer. He grabs his keys and wallet and leave’s the apartment.

 

The drive over passes faster than Niall expects: he arrives at 6:31. Opting against waiting the extra four minutes, he takes a chance and buzzes Sandy’s apartment, waiting for the lad to come down. Taking a couple deep breaths and wiping sweaty palms on his denim clad legs (because for some reason, he is actually quite nervous for this date), Niall is pleasantly surprised when Sandy exits his front door and immediately greets him with a little kiss on the cheek. So far so good.

 

***

 

Niall and Sandy arrive at the theatre at around 7 pm, thirty minutes before the show’s start, just in time to take their seats near the front of the auditorium. The hall is actually pretty crowded; they have to push past many people and try not to tread on too many toes as they find their assigned seats.

 

“Great turn out, don’t you think?” Sandy comments as they find their seats in the fifth row. Niall nods, really excited that all these people were going to see his Louis perform. He looks around, trying to gauge how many have shown up and figures that the entire theatre is almost full. Excellent for an opening night of an amateur performance.

 

Niall is so busy taking it all in that he barely notices when someone takes the seat next to his. “Oops,” he says when his elbow brushes against someone else’s. “Sorry, mate.”

 

“It’s alright, Niall.”

 

Niall freezes. Oh shit. He could recognize that voice anywhere, the same voice that’s been haunting his thoughts and dreams all damn week. Turning slowly in his seat, his fears are confirmed. Sitting there, looking as lovely as ever is Zayn, and right beside him, smiling happily is Liam. Oh shit.

 

“I didn’t know Louis got you tickets right next to us,” is the first thing that blurts out of Niall’s mouth when he finally recovers enough to produce intelligible words.

 

Liam laughs at that, somehow finding this whole crazy situation hilarious for some unknown reason. “Of course he did! He said we should keep you from leaving if you got too bored.” Of course Louis would say such an idiotic thing, as if he wasn’t supportive enough to stay the entire time.

 

Niall forces a laugh and tries not to gag. Fucking Louis. If he didn’t know the boy had to be on stage in a few minutes, Niall would have marched backstage that very moment to tell him how he really felt, perhaps give him a couple smacks on the head to enforce his annoyance. Meanwhile, Sandy is greeting the happy couple, completely oblivious to Niall’s discomfort and unease. He really is a great guy, always friendly, never suspicious. Niall is so wrapped up in his own conflicted thoughts, that he barely even notices Harry, Josh, Dan, and Jon come and sit on the other side of Sandy, greeting Zayn and Liam warmly as they step over them. Niall claps all their hands dazedly before they take their seats, chatting animatedly about the play.

 

Luckily, as soon as Sandy finishes chastising Liam for not singing with The No Names often enough and Harry stop’s telling every random person around them that their friend is playing Ariel, the lights dim, signaling that the show is about to start. Niall settles into his seat, looking forward to the next two hours of uninterrupted peace. Or so he thinks.

 

Halfway through the second scene of the first act, he feels Sandy’s arm creep up around his shoulders, moving slowly to make sure Niall is ok with the gesture. He grins a little, snuggling into the crook of Sandy’s arm just a bit as he goes back to attempting to decipher the Shakespearean language. A little while later, out of the corner of his eye, he notices Zayn cuddle into Liam’s side, grabbing onto his boyfriends hand and stroking it deliberately. Not to be outdone, Niall slyly places his hand on Sandy’s knee, ignoring his date’s blush and instead seeing Zayn kiss Liam’s cheek in turn. So of course Niall nuzzles deeper into Sandy’s side while Zayn start’s to play with the hem of Liam’s button down. By the time intermission rolls around, both boys are practically throwing themselves into their partner’s laps, trying to make the other bitter.

 

As the lights come on, Niall flushes bright red, realizing how touchy-feely he is being. Removing himself form Sandy’s grasp, he offers to buy them a snack to eat during the second half of the show. Carefully stepping over a still overly-affectionate Zayn and Liam, he makes his way to the lobby and buys two bags of m&m’s. Turning away from the concession stand, he runs right into a furious looking Zayn.

 

“What the hell was that back there?” he practically shouts, glaring at Niall irately. Quickly, the blonde pulls the angry boy into a corner where they are less likely to be noticed. “Were you trying to make me jealous or something?”

 

“I was just trying to enjoy the show, who knows what you were doing,” Niall spits back. He cannot believe this idiot actually thinks he was spending the show trying to make him envious. Of course that was his goal. But he can’t believe Zayn is actually trying to call him out on it.

 

Zayn pushes up against him, eyes flashing as he invades Niall’s personal space. “I was spending time with my boyfriend. What the fuck were you doing with that guy, huh? What type of game are you trying to play here?” he hisses into Niall’s ear, making him shiver a little.

 

“You mean with my date?” Niall asks, scoffing a little, trying to ignore the twitch in his pants. “I was just having a good time. Don’t think everything is about you, babes. You need to get over yourself, conceitedness isn’t a good look on that pretty face of yours.”

 

For a moment, the two boys just stand there looking at each other, stunned at the things that just exited their mouths, air heavy with unspoken words. Finally, Zayn turns in a huff and walks away, back into the auditorium.

 

Annoyed and frustrated and somehow unsatisfied, Niall stands there for a few seconds, dazed and confused, before realizing the hard-on he was getting. Fuck. The blinking lights in the lobby tell him that the show was about to begin, but he can’t go back in there with a semi. Quickly he tries thinking of dead puppies and sad kittens and his grandma’s wrinkles. Finally satisfied with his state of being, he makes his way back into the hall, not enthusiastic for another hour of close proximity to Zayn.

 

***

 

“A toast!” Harry shouts, standing and raising his pint of beer and motioning for the rest of the group to follow suit. “To Louis! The best little sprite to ever grace TheTempest!”

 

“Cheer’s!” they all say, clinking glasses and downing their respective drinks as Louis takes a silly little bow. They play went off without a hitch and Louis had acted beautifully, not messing up one single line or missing one cue. To celebrate, they have all gone to a small bar close to the theatre, all proud of their friend. Niall is determined not to make a fool of himself in front of Sandy and sips his beer very slowly, trying not to drink too much at once. The way a certain young man sitting annoyingly close to him at the table they are crowded around is looking at him makes it hard for him to follow his small sips rules, but somehow, he manages.

 

A couple hours later, Niall is pleased to say he is only tipsy, proudly maintaining his cool and not embarrassing himself at all. Zayn, on the other hand, along with most of the rest of the group, is completely pissed. He and Louis are currently standing on top of the bar, arms flung around one another, belting song after song.

 

_I was made for lovin’ you baby_

_You were made for lovin’ me_

 

Harry is clapping and singing along, buying drinks and enjoying the show as Louis shakes his little hips and blows exaggerated kisses at his curly-haired crush. Liam, however, who is completely sober once more, does not look too pleased as his boyfriend starts to lift up his posh cream jumper and give the pub a view of his tattooed abs. He shakes his head, seemingly saddened by the sight of his boyfriend acting in such a way, and turns away from the spectacle. But that doesn’t stop Zayn, who begins licking his lips seductively and grinding his hips against Louis’ willing ones as the Kiss song continues.

 

_And I can’t get enough of you baby_

_Can you get enough of me_

 

For once, Niall feels bad for Liam, sensing his discomfort throughout the whole exhibition. At the same time, he can’t help but feel strangely victorious, like he won this round of whatever game they were playing in some sick sort of way. Sandy, who seems comfortably drunk, is gently holding his hand beneath the table, leaning over occasionally to talk into Niall’s ear, smiling brightly every time he makes his date laugh. The blonde finds himself starting to like the bassist more than he had before, and even finds himself staring less and less at Zayn’s impressive body as the night wears on. Maybe this is the way to get over this ridiculous crush of his, maybe all he needs is a new guy to forget the pretty chap who is currently trying to get random blokes to do body shots off of him. Looking over at Sandy who is currently offering Niall some of his fries, he feels a lot better about his decisions than he has in a while.

 

When they all clear out of the bar later on, a very annoyed, very disappointed Liam practically drags a drunken Zayn, who is complaining about how no-fun his boyfriend is to anyone who will listen, off to his car and Niall can’t help but smile enormously as he laces fingers with Sandy, leading him towards his own vehicle. He can’t help but imagine the massive fight the couple is going to have later on, can’t help but grin a little at the thought.

 

What a sick bastard he is.

 

***

 

Niall awakes to the sound of the apartment buzzer going off, signaling that someone is at their lobby door trying to gain access. Groaning, he slams a pillow over his head, attempting to block out the incessant buzzing that rings throughout the flat.

 

Having sobered-up considerably, Niall had ended up driving Sandy, Harry, and Louis home, who had spent the car ride laughing drunkenly at Harry’s idiotic jokes and praising Louis’ acting skills. He had dropped Sandy off at his apartment first, insisting on walking him to the front door of his flat. The older lad had promised to call him, giving him a sweet kiss on the lips before entering his place, leaving Niall feeling positively giddy. Harry, of course, was coming home with them, and Niall didn’t even pay much attention to the two love birds fondling each other and giggling in the backseat as he drove along, too wrapped up in his own thoughts. He was starting to think he might really be able to do this, might actually be able to move on.

 

When they finally arrived home, Louis and Harry had made a mad dash for Louis’ bedroom while Niall sleepily made his way to his own room, stripping down to his boxers before throwing himself into his warm, inviting bed. He had been out in seconds, just to be woken up a few hours later by this incessant person at the door.

 

After five minutes of constant ringing and no signs of it letting up, Niall finally gives up, begrudgingly pulling himself out from underneath the warm comforter and into the living room to push the button to let whoever was at the door up. Sulking, he drops onto the couch, head lolling back a little as he waits for the unwelcome guest to make it to the door. When the knock on the door finally comes, Niall slowly pushes himself off the sofa and opens the front door sluggishly.

 

“N-Niall?”

 

You have got to be fucking kidding. At the door, in the same jumper and slacks he was wearing earlier, is Zayn, hair a lot more limp, eyes red from crying. He looks absolutely pitiful to say the least, arms wrapped around himself as he tries not to sob, clearly still a bit drunk.

 

“Zayn, what are you doing here? It’s almost five in the morning,” Niall groans, reluctantly standing aside to let the pathetic looking chap in. “Where’s Liam?”

 

But Zayn is too busy making himself at home on the couch to answer Niall right away, wheezing a bit as he tries to hold back the waterworks. Oh God. What a mess. Niall sits next to him on the couch, uncomfortably patting Zayn on the back, grumbling inwardly as the boy hiccups on and on. Fifteen minutes of sniveling later, Zayn is finally calm enough to explain himself.

 

“Li-Liam w-w-was driving us ho-home,” he starts out, still breathing heavily and stuttering every other word. “A-a-a-and he was re-really really mad be-cau-cause I-I-I wasn’t being good.”

 

“So you and Liam got into a fight,” Niall prompts, trying to speed up the process. At this rate, he wasn’t going to be getting much sleep the rest of the night. “And?”

 

“H-he was yelling at me!” Zayn cries, dissolving back into tears. “He t-told me to stop acting s-so slutty! But I’m not a slut, N-Niall, I c-can’t help it if-if-if I’m pretty and guys like m-me!”

 

Rolling his eyes at the boy’svanity, Niall gives Zayn an awkward one-armed hug, trying not to curse his existence once again. Zayn just keeps on crying, mumbling unintelligibly about how mean Liam is and how he never wants to go home again. In the end, Niall learns that Zayn was so upset, he ended up leaving his apartment once Liam was asleep and made his way to the only place he could remember how to get to. Niall’s first instinct is to kick the bawling lad out, send him back to his own home and let his boyfriend deal with this chaos. But, taking another look at the blubbering boy, he decides that it can’t hurt to let Zayn spend one night on the couch. It’s not like anything will happen.

 

Grabbing his own comforter and one of his pillows off his bed, Niall tucks Zayn in on the couch, removing his dirty black leather shoes before wrapping him up as cozily as he can. He sits with him until the dark-haired boy’s breathing evens out, taking a moment to admire how peaceful he looks in sleep. Zayn truly is beautiful, Niall has to admit.

 

It is now six, and Niall can now drag his drained body back to bed, forgetting all about his unwanted visitor as he drifts off to sleep once more.

 

***

 

“Niall Fucking Horan, you better wake up this instance.”

 

What is it now? The blonde grunts loudly, trying to push Louis off of him to no avail. For such a small boy, Louis has an extremely strong grip. “Louis, it’s too early for this. Go fuck Harry or something,” he whines, shifting away from the brunette’s weight as he straddles him.

 

“No I most undoubtedly will not. Do you care to explain how a certain Zayn Malik ended up asleep on our couch? Hmm? Is there something you would like to share with the class?” Louis hisses, poking Niall in the side until the lad rolls over and faces him properly.

 

Rubbing his hands over his face, Niall explains, saying: “He came here really early in the morning, crying like a little girl. Apparently he and Liam got in a fight. He was in no shape to go home, so I let him sleep here.” He gives Louis a harsh push onto the floor, ignoring his friend’s irritated squeak as he gets out of bed and pulls on shorts and a t-shirt. Walking into the living room, he finds Zayn still fast asleep on the couch and Harry sitting in one of the armchairs in just his underwear, flipping through a magazine, giving Niall a friendly wave hello.

 

“He’s completely passed out, didn’t even wake up when Louis and I… Uh… Well, I wouldn’t suggest eating at the kitchen table until I have a chance to wipe it down,” Harry drawls, smirking a little to himself. Niall shakes his head, suppressing a smile. What a bunch of horny little freaks. He walks over to the couch, inspecting the sleeping boy: Harry is right, Zayn is completely out of it. Even when he tries to shake him, poke him, nudge him, and slap him awake, the boy stays fast asleep.

 

Giving up, Niall goes into the kitchen, where Louis is busy layering different kinds of cereal in ] artful patterns into two bowls. “You aren’t going to make me breakfast?” Niall fake pouts, trying to steal one of the bowls away.

 

“No!” Louis shouts, slapping Niall’s hand hard. “You’re a bad friend and bad friends don’t get delicious home-made breakfasts!”

 

Chuckling, Niall grabs his own bowl from one of the cabinets and pours himself his own mixture of Lucky Charms and Fruity Pebbles. “Oh, come on Lou, are you really that mad?”

 

“Well, no,” Louis says curtly, grabbing the milk from the fridge and pouring a generous amount into all three bowls. “I just wish you would’ve told me as soon as he got here.”

 

“And, what, interrupt whatever it was you and Harry were doing all night?” Niall chortles, following the older boy back to the living room. “I love you, but I don’t ever want to see what it is you do with other boys.”

 

Acknowledging the truth in this statement with an accepting nod, Louis hands one bowl of cereal to his green-eyed lover, before taking seat in said lover’s lap and tucking into his own meal. Niall curls up on the floor next to the armchair and all three of them proceed to eat their cereal whilst staring at the sleeping beauty on the couch. They’ve almost finished when Zayn finally wakes up, yawning and stretching a bit before sleepily looking around. “Where am I?”

 

“You’ve strangely ended back at our apartment.” Louis pipes up, obviously enjoying himself as Zayn shoots up off the couch and looks around wildly. “Did you have a nice sleep?”

 

“What? What happened? Why am I here?” Zayn asks, glaring at Niall as if this entire predicament is his fault. Well this isn’t his fault, and he refuses to take credit for something he did his best to solve.

 

“You showed up sobbing and I let you sleep on the couch,” he replies tersely, staring the boy down as he looks around from his seat on the couch.

 

Zayn shakes his head at that. “That’s impossible. Why would I come here of all places?”

 

“I have no idea why you picked here, but you did come here, and you did sleep here,” Niall points out, not in the mood for any of Zayn’s bullshit so early in the morning.

 

“I think you and Liam had a fight of some sort,” Harry chimes in, slurping the last of the milk from his bowl before pushing Louis off of him and taking all three empty bowls to the kitchen. “Would you like something to eat, Zayn?” he calls out, always a good host, even when he isn’t in his own home.

 

But Zayn is too busy looking for his cell phone and, once finding it, checking his messages to answer Harry’s kind question. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath, quickly pulling on his shoes when he finds them on the floor and heading towards the door. Before he lets himself out, though, he turns to look one last time at Niall who is still sitting on the floor, eyes trained on the skinny boy’s face. “Thank you. For, uh, for everything. I appreciate it,” he says, hazel eyes unable to meet blue ones. “Not that I remember much, but…” Niall simply nods in acknowledgement as Zayn let’s their gazes meet before letting himself out.

 

“Well, that was intense,” Louis breathes, as soon as the door is closed, jumping up to join Harry in the kitchen, his love of all things dramatic shining through as he begins to analyze the entire scene as if Harry wasn’t there to see it. Niall gets up slowly and heads back to his room, refusing to even begin to think about how much tousle-haired, early-morning, still-sleepy Zayn turned him on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it may be a little while until the next update because I'm going out of town. But, depending on how my day goes I may post another chapter later tonight so here's hoping! xxx


	6. Like A Prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall gets a text from Zayn but refuses to answer it; goes to a party with Sandy and messes up massively; and makes a decision about what to do about Zayn's crypticness.
> 
> It'll get more exciting soon, I'm just seeing how things go =]

[Like A Prayer](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=79fzeNUqQbQ)

 

Sunday morning when Niall wakes up, he is greeted by four new messages on his phone. He lays back on one of his pillows, yawning a little and holds the phone over his face so he can answer them.

 

Sandy:

Had a great time Friday night, hope I didn’t embarrass myself too much! Would love to see you again soon :) xx

 

Louis:

Went out for breakfast with Harry. Didn’t want to wake you, but I’ll bring you something back! Oh and I’d flip the couch cushions before you sit on them ;)

 

Josh:

You’re still coming out with us tonight, right? Sandy will be there, I think he really likes you!

 

Niall smiles at the messages, not even too bothered about Louis and Harry having sex all over his couch, and excited to hang out with his friends tonight. It was this kid Olly from his piano class’s birthday today and Josh, being the thoughtful party-animal he was, had organized for the entire class to celebrate at some karaoke bar nearby (since music students obviously want to spend their free time singing outdated songs off-key and drinking two-pound pints in a smoky room). Niall really enjoyed hanging out with his fellow music-geeks and seeing Sandy would simply be a bonus. He had wanted to text the bassist the day before, but, taking Louis’ advice and not wanting to seem too eager or smothering, had decided to wait. He quickly shoots off texts back, telling Sandy he’d see him at the party that night; scolding Lou a bit and asking for breakfast sandwich with extra bacon; and promising Josh he would be there on time.

 

He opens the last text disinterestedly, not sure of whom else would be texting him so early in the day. When he sees the name ‘Zayn’ appear, he actually drops his phone on his face, yelping because it really hurts. He can’t even remember when he got Zayn’s number, almost positive they’ve never messaged each other before. Sure enough, when he removes the device from where it is squishing his nose, the unopened text is the only one he has ever gotten from the mysterious lad. Curious but apprehensive he taps the message to open it and reads slowly.

 

Zayn:

Sorry about yesterday morning. And everything else that happened before that. I never meant to put you in this position. I know you probably don’t want to, but could we talk? I have a lot to get off my chest and I just feel like I owe you more of an explanation… That maybe you’d understand better if I told you how it all started. Please respond, Niall.

 

He stares at the screen for a little, not even realizing he’s holding his breath until his lungs are about to burst. As he finally exhales, his mind starts whirring because Zaynzaynzayn. What could he possibly want to talk about? Didn’t they just have a talk last weekend? How much more can the lad possibly have on his chest that he needs to get off? Explain what? His drunken shenanigans or his need to worm his way into every aspect of Niall’s usually uneventful, care-free life? How what started? Is it possible to feel this conflicted by such a short message?

 

Instead of answering, Niall shoves the phone underneath his pillow and decides to eat now instead of waiting for Louis to get back. He sits at the kitchen table with a bowl of Cap’n Crunch and thinks about his life. The past week has been an absolute rollercoaster for the Irish boy. Truthfully he’s never felt this way about anyone before, not how he feels about Zayn. He had always been short-term when it came to relationships, mostly because he was too focused on his music to ever commit to any one person. So it had always been more of easy, relaxed dating for Niall, kind of like how it is with Sandy. But Zayn… He actually doesn’t even know that much about him. He doesn’t know his middle name or his favorite ice cream flavor or anything about his family or what he does when he’s sad or why he’s an English major or if he works out to maintain his wonderful body or anything one usually learns about a person before dating.

 

But Niall does know that Zayn sleeps flat on his back and mumbles in his sleep. He knows that Zayn prefers whiskey to vodka because it seems more mysterious and grown-up. He knows Zayn likes to wear black because it makes him seem stylish without having to try really hard. He knows that when Zayn kisses him, he touches their tongues together like he wants to know just what Niall tastes like. He knows that Zayn has the most beautiful soft, brown eyes, and those eyes have the power to make him forget everything and everyone around him.

 

The sound of a key in the front door lock startles Niall out of his Zayn-filled mind. Louis’ voice rings out, announcing that they have his breakfast, Harry’s cackle following close behind. Shaking his head, Niall decides such thoughts are for another day and time.

 

***

 

_I want you_

_I don't want anybody else_

_And when I think about you_

_I touch myself_

 

Laughing along with the rest of his pals, Niall cat calls and claps hard as Olly takes a little bow after his rendition of ‘I Touch Myself’. The little bar is full of students, the beer is flowing, the chatter is light, and everyone is having a good time; never mind the fact that they all have classes to attend the next day.

 

Taking a gulp of his cider, Niall tunes out of the conversation around the table he is sat at, something about the fast-approaching winter holiday and the probability of taking the train to the continent to go skiing in Bern. Instead, the blonde, who already knows he’ll spend most of the holidays in his Irish home land, catching up with friends and playing with his new little nephew Theo, focuses instead on the buzzing-feeling in his head and the general numbness that is spreading throughout his body from the three pints of cheap ale and the two shots of vodka he has already consumed. He knows he’ll probably regret it in the morning; it just feels nice to let go once again.

 

“Niall, you’re up!” Sandy yells in his ear, startling Niall from his empty thoughts. The lad shoves a list of karaoke songs into Niall’s fumbling hands, grinning hugely. He had spent almost the entire evening with Sandy, who insisted on buying him his first three drinks, allowing Niall to pay for the last round and the shots. It had been very comfortable so far: Sandy was a bit touchy-feely, resting his hand on Niall’s thigh and sometimes wrapping his arm around Niall’s shoulder. It was nice though, to feel wanted.

 

“I can’t pick, you choose for me,” Niall shouts, throwing the karaoke menu back at Sandy and giggling when the laminated page whacks the boy in the face.

 

Sandy just smiles cheekily, grabs Niall’s hand, and pulls him up to the stage. He pushes Niall right in front of the microphone and hops off to tell the DJ what song to play. If he was more sober, Niall would probably be regretting his decision to not choose himself as soon as the opening chords of the Madonna song starts to play. But in this state, he simply grabs the microphone, strikes a dramatic pose, and begins to sing:

 

_Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone_

_I hear you call my name_

_And it feels like home_

 

Responding to the cheers of his friends, he starts up a silly little dance, moving his ass along to the beat of the synthesizer and whipping his head around.

 

_When you call my name it’s like a little prayer_

_I’m down on my knees, I wanna take you there_

_In the midnight hour I can feel your power_

_Just like a prayer you know I’ll take you there_

 

As the song goes on, Niall notices Sandy watching at him, having managed to snag a chair almost right in front of the stage. His eyes are dark as he follows Niall’s every move, mouth slightly parted, tongue slowly running the length of his lips. Niall faintly remembers Louis telling him that the popular song was actually about giving blow jobs when he notices the bulge in Sandy’s pants. How flattering.

 

_Just like a prayer your voice can take me there_

_Just like a muse to me, you are a mystery_

_Just like a dream, you are not what you seem_

_Just like a prayer, no choice your voice can take me there_

_Your voice can take me there, just like a prayer_

 

With a flourish, Niall finishes the song to tremendous applause, amazed that he actually managed to stay in-tune. He takes a silly bow, blowing kisses to his fans, and jumps off the stage to where Sandy is sitting, clapping animatedly. Grabbing the dazed boy by the hand, he leads him back to their table, high-fiving friends and accepting compliments as he goes.

 

“Well if that wasn’t the most homoerotic performance I’ve seen all night,” Josh shouts as they take their seats once again. “You’ve almost turned me on and you know how straight I am!” Niall just laughs, enjoying the praise and chugging the rest of his un-finished cider. When he slams his empty mug on the table, he looks over at Sandy, whose wide eyes haven’t left Niall’s face since he started singing.

 

What is it with him seducing men with his amazing singing abilities?

 

***

 

It turns out Sandy has sobered up enough to drive by the time they say goodbye around 3 am. He offers to take Niall home, who, though not completely wasted, cannot safely think or walk straight because he is simply too exhausted to be cognitive this early in the morning. Sandy chats idly during the ten minute drive, fiddling with the radio and singing along a bit as Niall rests his eyes. He is definitely going to regret this in the morning.

 

When they pull up in front of his apartment building, Sandy insists on walking the stumbling boy up to his door, gripping his elbow lightly so Niall doesn’t fall over. It takes them entirely too long to make it up to Niall’s front door because the blonde keeps pulling away from Sand y to sit on the ground, wanting to fall asleep then and there; but Sandy doesn’t care, chuckling to himself as he pulls Niall up yet again and trying to guide him home.

 

“You reckon you’ll remember any of this in the morning?” Sandy asks as Niall fumbles with the lock, failing to put the key in the correct hole.

 

“Of course I will,” he slurs, allowing an entertained Sandy to take the key and unlock the door for him. “Thank youuuuuu.”

 

“No problem,” Sandy replies, standing with his hand unmoving on the knob. Hesistantly, he steps forward, gently pushing Niall up against the strip of wall, free hand cupping Niall’s cheek before kissing him quietly. Niall instantly deepens the kiss, opening his mouth and breathing in Sandy’s scent of beer and aftershave. The brunette boy hums a little, releasing the door to place his other hand on Niall’s waist, softly tracing patterns through the wool fabric before slipping his fingers under Niall’s jumper.

 

What a nice kiss, Niall thinks to himself, enjoying the feeling of another’s tongue against his own, feeling Sandy harden against his leg. Why don’t people just kiss all the time? If I could, I’d kiss all day long. Well, maybe I’d stop for food. And probably to go to the loo. And I suppose I have to go to school and do homework and talk to friends and eat again and stuff. But other than that, I want to kiss Zayn forever.

 

Zayn?

 

Astonished by his own thoughts, Niall accidentally bites down on Sandy’s tongue, eliciting a loud yelp from the unsuspecting boy, who pushes him away and grabs his tongue in distress. Where the hell did Zayn come from?

 

After a few seconds of dazed confusion, Niall finally realizes what just happened, squeaks and tries to see if the other lad is okay. “Oh my God, Sandy, are you okay? Christ I don’t know what just happened, I must be drunker than I thought I’m so sorry are you alright? Oh God, I’m just… Oh Sandy,” Niall groans, not sure of what more he can say, reaching out to pat the poor boy, who is doubled over in pain, on the back, but stopping himself, not wanting to cause any more pain. After all, what does one say after biting one’s partner’s tongue mid-snog? What is wrong with him?

 

Laughing bitterly and letting go of his tongue, Sandy shakes his head, eyes watering. “It’s ok, Niall. I’m sure you didn’t mean it.”

 

“Do you want some ice? Or like tea or something hot?” Niall asks, still concerned, not sure of what’s good for a bitten tongue. “Oh, shit Sandy, you’re bleeding!” he cries, noticing the red on Sandy’s fingers. Could this possibly get any worse?

 

“Niall, I heard a cry. Is everything alright?” Louis’ head pokes out the door, eyeing the situation suspiciously and curiously.

 

Apparently this could get worse.

 

Sandy waves his hand at Louis, saying: “We’re ok, Lou, he just bit my tongue. Nothing to be worried about.”

 

“You bit his tongue?!” Louis cries out, eyes widening with shock and glee. Oh fuck, Niall is never going to be able to live this down. “Harry, did you hear that? Niall bit Sandy’s tongue! Oh my God, Nialler, why in hell did you do that?”

 

“Louis. Go back inside,” Niall grits through his teeth, glaring so hard that Louis actually listens to him for once, retreating back into the apartment, no doubt to discuss Niall’s embarrassing moment with Harry. Sighing, Niall runs his fingers through his hair, looking sheepishly at Sandy who is still inspecting the blood on his fingers from holding his aching tongue. “I really am sorry, Sandy,” he says weakly, completely mortified.

 

“It’s ok, Niall. Honestly, the look on your face when Louis came out makes up for all of this.” Sandy grins, pulls the blonde in for a hug, and gives him a peck on the nose. After promising to talk again soon, he leaves Niall alone in the hall with a racing conscious.

 

What is his life? Niall really cannot believe himself at the moment. There he was, kissing a totally fit, kind, funny, sweet, _single_ musician who seems extremely sexually attracted to him, judging by the boner he felt as they were making out. And Niall has to ruin it by thinking of Zayn of all people, and then actually biting the totally fit, kind, funny, sweet, single musicians tongue. His actual tongue. Let’s be real here, Niall doesn’t think he even deserves another chance with Sandy at this point. He wouldn’t blame the guy at all if he never talked to him again, if tonight is the last night he ever sees him. Thinking of texting Sandy reminds him of Zayn’s cryptic message from that morning, and Niall physically winces before shoving the thought out of his overworked mind. He’ll save that unpleasant self-discussion for the morning. Checking his phone for the time, he realizes that right now, he needs to get what little sleep he can before he has to wake up for class in just four hours.

 

Cringing at memories of bleeding tongues and failed goodnight kisses, Niall slowly lifts himself off the hallway floor and lets himself into the flat. Ignoring Louis, who is curled up on Harry’s lap in one of the armchairs and barraging him with comments about his lack of romance and grace, Niall stalks to his room, strips naked, and falls asleep to dreams of a perfect world of single Zayn.

 

***

 

It’s Monday morning, and Niall is sitting in his musical composition lecture, dozing off and completely ignoring the professor’s talk on harmonizing in minor keys. He now remembers why he generally makes it a rule not to stay out on school nights. 8 am had come too soon and the sound of his alarm clock brought tears to the worn-out boy’s eyes. Checking his phone, he hadn’t received any texts from Sandy: of course it was too early to expect anything, but still, Niall had been hopeful that the lad would have reassured him that everything was still alright between them.

 

Right now, trying to stay awake during the class and drooling on his paper instead of taking notes, Niall’s mind ends up flitting back to Zayn’s unanswered text. He hopes if he doesn’t look at it, maybe the next time he checks his phone the text will have magically disappeared. But he knows it’s there, waiting for a reply he isn’t prepared to give. As he keeps thinking about it and all the possible outcomes, Niall suddenly finds that he really wants to see Zayn. He’s not sure why, but he’s extremely tempted to just shoot him back a quick ‘yes’ without a second thought. Yet, something is holding him back. Does he really want to possibly make another mistake? Or ruin things even more with Sandy?

 

Niall is startled from his thoughts by the collective rustling of papers, chattering, and scraping of chairs being pushed from desks, which signals that the professor has dismissed lecture. Gathering his belongings, Niall heads out of the building where his class is held, into the blustery autumn air, planning on grabbing a quick bite to eat before heading to the library to study a bit. While waiting in line at one of his favorite food carts, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. Fishing for it, he contemplates the practicality of a sandwich verse the warmth of hot soup. Reading the screen, he audibly gulps a little when he reads the single word text on the screen.

 

Zayn:

Please?

 

His fingers fumble over the touch screen, typing out a hasty response. And when he steps up to the counter to order his ham and Swiss sandwich and hot coffee, his chest suddenly feels a lot lighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I took so long to update! I just got back from vacation, but I'll try to update quicker now.
> 
> Just a couple clarifications:  
> -It's around mid-October in the story, if you're wondering  
> -I'm not entirely sure about Josh/Sandy's personalities so I'm just working with how I feel they should be, sorry  
> -I'm American so I'm not entirely sure about everything British, so sorry about any mishaps
> 
> So yeah, hope you like it! xxx


	7. Wannabe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall meets Zayn for coffee and... A friendship is born?

[Wannabe](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gJLIiF15wjQ)

It’s Tuesday afternoon and Niall is running late. As he jumps off the bus and jogs down the street looking around eagerly for the little restaurant Zayn asked to meet up in, he finds himself wondering for the billionth time why he agreed to this. Spotting it, he sprints across the street but hesitates in front of the door. Looking through one of the large windows, he spots Zayn, sitting in one of the booths with his back to the door. It’s not too late to turn back now; he hasn’t been noticed. But curiosity gets the best of him. Niall tries to swallow the lump that has formed in his throat before pushing open the heavy door and making his way inside.

 

“Hey, man,” Niall says tentatively, timidly sliding across the bench opposite from Zayn in the booth. Zayn’s smile is bright as he looks at the blonde boy, relief in his eyes as if he didn’t think Niall would actually show.

 

“I was waiting to order my meal, if you wanted to get something to eat,” Zayn says, motioning to the two folded menus on the table in front of him. Nodding his head, Niall picks one of them up, hiding his face behind the plastic pages as he tries to calm himself down. He can do this. They’re just talking. No big deal. Nothing to worry about. It’s not like the situation could get anymore awkward, right? Just a meal with a guy he happened to have sex with. Who he spends a lot of time obsessing over. Very casual. No big deal.

 

After about a minute of uncomfortable silence and fake meal contemplation, the waitress comes over to take their orders: Zayn gets a Panini and a latte while Niall opts for pasta and a coke. “So, Zayn, what is it that you, uh, wanted to talk about?” Niall asks, fiddling with his napkin and  staring into his lap, refusing to make eye contact after the waitress leaves with their menus.

 

Zayn takes a deep breath, tugging at the collar of his grey jumper uneasily before starting: “I wanted to ask if we could be friends. No, just let me finish yeah?” he says, motioning for Niall not to say anything when his head shoots up, mouth gaping, eyes wide with misperception. “I know it seems weird, after all of the… you know… stuff that’s happened. Cuz, you see, I like you Niall, a whole lot, and I know you don’t want to be with me like that. Because I have a boyfriend and stuff. But I want to get to know you better. You just seem so chilled-out and hilarious and fun to be around. I figure if I can’t date you or anything, I should still be able to talk to you and hang out with you as mates, yeah? I just want to… to be with you, Niall.”

 

Oh fuck. That definitely came out of nowhere. If he was going to be honest with himself, Niall was halfway sure Zayn was going to apologize about all that had occurred, tell him he had been doubting his relationship with Mr. Perfect, but now, after a nice romp with a blonde stranger and a couple of angsty meet-ups, the horrible bathroom blow-job had renewed his faith and trust in his love for Liam and now, they were planning on eloping to Tahiti or something and he wanted Niall to be his best friend out of gratitude for the amazing services he had performed in ensuring their eternal happiness. But friendship? That had never crossed his mind.

 

“You do realize the reason we can’t be together is because of Liam, your boyfriend, right?” Niall states very slowly after a couple moments of silent contemplation, still trying to process it all.

 

“Yeah, of course,” Zayn says quickly, nodding his head earnestly and leaning forward a bit across the table. “And I get that, I promise I won’t try anything else. Just, please, let’s be friends?”

 

Swallowing hard, Niall tries to formulate an answer. Finding himself at a loss, he is saved by the arrival of their food, and after thanking the waitress, he starts to shovel the alfredo into his mouth, pausing only to take a large gulp of soda as he continues his thoughts. If he is going to be honest with himself again, friendship doesn’t sound half-bad, a lot better than spending a couple thousand pounds to fly to the Caribbean and watch them get married at some beach-front sunset wedding. Actually, being friend’s sounds pretty good. He’ll be able to spend time with Zayn without feeling like a complete twat for ruining a happy home. And, truthfully, he isn’t ready to let go, not just yet.

 

After half his meal is gone, he puts down his fork, clears his throat, and says: “Ok.”

 

Zayn looks up from his chicken sandwich which he has only picked at, with a surprised look on his face, as if he wasn’t sure if Niall would actually agree. “Really? You’re sure?” he asks breathlessly, making sure he heard correctly.

 

“Yeah, why not,” Niall replies, shrugging nonchalantly as he once again starts to eat, trying to hide his eagerness. “But friends, and that’s it. None of that other foolishness.”

 

“Done!” Zayn says, returning to his meal with renewed gusto. He smiles beatifically, like a weight was lifted off his shoulders and Niall can’t help but feel happy that he put it there. Still, he’s confused about this sudden change of events.

 

He takes a big bite of pasta and tries to figure out how to word his thoughts. “Can I ask, why you want to be friends?” he asks as he chews his food slowly.

 

Zayn frowns a little at that. “I just told you, I like you and I want to get to know you.”

 

“Yeah, but why?”

 

“Why what?”

 

“Why do you want to get to know me?”

 

“Because I like you.”

 

Sighing, Niall puts down his loaded fork and gives Zayn an annoyed look. “I mean, why is it so important to you for us to be friends? I mean after everything that we…did, most normal people wouldn’t be so adamant about being friends. They probably would think it like, weird or whatever.”

 

“Are you trying to hint that I’m weird, Niall?”

 

“Zayn…”

 

“Okay, okay, okay,” Zayn says, laughing a little but stopping when he sees just how frusturated Niall really is. “Honestly, I just feel this connection with you. I think about you often. I don’t think I could stay away from you, even if I tried. So might as well accept fate and be with you. In a purely platonic way of course. I just…”

 

“You just?” Niall prompts when Zayn trails off.

 

Shaking his head, the older lad simply smiles and picks up his panini once more. “I just want to be your friend,” he finishes, taking another bite and giving the still-confused Irishman a sincere smile. And it’s this close-lipped, slightly crooked smile that melts Niall’s heart a bit. He decides to simply enjoy the moment, enjoy his new friendship, and see what happens.

 

***

 

When he finally makes it home that night, Niall is once again famished. After lunch with Zayn, he had gone to one of the University’s studios to work on his composition project: he had to compose a contemporary-sounding piece on the piano that had at least two minor themes running through. If he had paid more attention in class yesterday, he probably wouldn’t have found the task so daunting, but, alas, it had taken him a good half hour just to understand the assignment, and another hour to even know where to begin. By the time he had the first half of the piece with his first minor theme finished, it was already 8 pm.

 

Entering the apartment building, Niall thinks about how lovely a nice cup of tea, some leftover Chinese take away, and perhaps a couple episodes of Shameless before falling into his warm bed would be. All thoughts of a peaceful, quiet night are erased as soon as he approaches the front door and hears the loud thump of bass vibrating through. When he opens the door, he finds Louis and Harry in only their boxers and socks, dancing like crazy and singing along to the Spice Girls like the total idiots they are.

 

_If you want my future forget my past_

_If you wanna get with me better make it fast_

 

Niall almost makes it past where Harry is gyrating shamelessly on the couch and into the kitchen when Louis jumps out of nowhere, clings to him from behind and hollers in his ear:

 

_Now don’t go wasting my precious time_

_Get your act together we could be just fine_

 

“Louis get your grimy hands off of me!” Niall tries to shout above the music. But the smaller lad simply hugs him closer, dancing him back into the living room just in time for the chorus.

 

_If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends_

_Make it last forever, friendship never ends_

 

Harry leaps off the couch and grabs onto them, sandwiching Niall in-between the two sweaty, mostly-naked, over-excited boys.

 

_If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give_

_Taking is too easy, that’s the way it is_

 

Giving up, Niall waits out the rest of the song, allowing the crazy couple to sling him around the room as they yell, thrust, and grind their way through pretending to be each of the girls in the iconic girl group. With a final _zigazig ah_ , the three crash down onto the couch in a mass of sweat and giggles.

 

“If you’re finished, I’m going to go eat now,” Niall grunts, unwinding himself from grabby palms and tangled legs and entering the kitchen to look for his leftover takeaway.

 

“Oh come on Nialler, don’t act as if you didn’t enjoy our sing-a-long!” Louis protests, following him and plopping himself on to the counter to watch his grumpy friend rummage through the strangely full fridge.

 

“I absolutely did not. When did we get so much food?”

 

“Louis and I went to Sainsbury’s today,” Harry replies, moseying his way into the kitchen and settling himself between Louis’ legs, resting against the counter. “You two have a surprising lack of fresh produce in your diet.”

 

Acknowledging this fact with a slight nod, Niall reaches around the cucumbers, broccoli, and tomatoes to grab his greasy bag of moo-shoo pork and fried rice. As he shoves it in the microwave, his phone buzzes loudly from his front pocket. Sliding it out and looking at the screen, he can’t help the grin that comes across his face when he sees who it is.

 

Zayn:

I had fun today, glad we could talk! would you like to get coffee with me tomorrow, new friend?? xx

 

“What are you so tickled about?” Louis asks, wrapping his arms around Harry’s clammy chest as Niall types out a hasty yes.

 

“Nothing at all, Tommo, nothing at all.”

 

***

 

“So, tell me about yourself.”

 

Niall looks over at the as always well-dressed lad in confusion. They were in line at the crowded Starbucks on campus, waiting to order. “What do you mean, tell you about myself?”

 

Zayn just shrugs as the line starts to inch them closer to the busy counter. “I figured if we’re friends and all, I should know a little bit more about you, yeah?”

 

“I guess so,” Niall concedes. “You start.”

 

“Ok then, what’s your favorite color?”

 

Niall laughs loudly at that. “What is this, nursery school?” he asks a very serious-looking Zayn.

 

“Hey, don’t laugh. We have to start somewhere, might as well be with the basics. So tell me, Niall, what is your favorite color?”

 

Grinning, Niall answers: “Blue. Yours?”

 

“Black.”

 

“Big surprise there,” Niall snorts.

 

“Well what’s that supposed to mean?” Zayn asks, completely unaware to the fact that once again, he is wearing mostly black: black skinny jeans, black leather jacket over a grey, almost black v-neck, and black vans.

 

Niall shakes his head and pulls the oblivious boy forward in the line. “Nothing at all. What’s your favorite movie?”

 

“Le Mepris, definitely. One of Bridget Bardot’s very best films if you ask me.”

 

“Really? Interesting.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean!” Zayn cries, glaring hard at the blonde who simply shrugs his shoulders and quashes a snigger. Niall is completely unsurprised at Zayn’s pick, having pegged him for the artsy old foreign unknown-to-normal-people film type from the start. Not that he’s going to tell Zayn that; it’s simply too adorable watching him get frustrated.

 

“Nothing, I just really like the Godfather.”

 

“Oh, ok.Well what’s your favorite food?”

 

After a moment’s hesitation (after all, there are a lot of very good foods out there) Niall replies with, “I always love a good burger.”

 

“I know what you mean, I had this amazing burger last week at this place downtown, made of duck compote with blue cheese crumbles and this amazing vinaigrette, all on this really crusty French bread. More of a foie gras tart than a sandwich, but still, absolutely amazing,” Zayn replies nodding his head emphatically in agreement. But as soon as the words are out of his mouth, Niall can’t hold back the loud cackle threatening to creep out of his throat anymore. He actually bends over, shaking with laughter, because Zayn is just so… Zayn. He is dark and mysterious and hipsterish and ridiculous and pretentious and currently scowling menacingly at him, which only causes Niall to laugh harder.

 

“What the fuck, Niall?” Zayn says through gritted teeth, practically spitting out the words, noticing the irritated stares of the customers around them.

 

Niall takes a couple of seconds to calm himself, finally able to catch his breath and wipe away the tears that are threatening to drip down his red cheeks. “Nothing, Zaynie. You’re just super cute, that’s all.”

 

That probably wasn’t the answer Zayn was expecting, the frown quickly erased from his face and replaced with a look of pure wonderment. “Uh… Thanks, I think?” he says rather shyly. And Zayn really is adorable, peering up at Niall as if a compliment from him is all he needs to survive in the world. So many things Niall would do to adorable Zayn.

 

Realizing that they’re just standing there, smiling at each other like a bunch of dumbasses, Niall pushes the muddled lad up toward the now open counter, ignoring the little twitch of his dick at the continued fascination on Zayn’s face until he finally looks away and orders his vente-two-pump-white-chocolate-non-fat-soy-mocha-no-whip. How predictable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiii! Sorry it took me so long to update. I just started school so it's going to be harder from now on, but I'm really trying, I promise!
> 
> Also, I still don't know where I'm going, I think this might be really long because I have so many ideas and so much to resolve and this is ridiculous but in any case, I hope you enjoy and as always, feedback is lovely! xxx


	8. 12:51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis finds out about Zayn and Niall's friendship. Niall makes a date with Sandy and Zayn doesn't seem pleased. Niall get's turned on in the library.

[12:51](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LPAVDHo1Elc)

 

For the next couple of weeks or so, Niall and Zayn were completely inseparable, spending as much time together as possible. They found out that most of their breaks in their schedules lined up, so Niall came to expect Zayn to be waiting outside his music theory class with whatever drink and sandwich combination he had picked out for his friend’s lunch that day and Zayn to expect Niall to be standing outside the library in the evenings so they could finish coursework. When they weren’t wandering campus or studying in the library together or exploring the many restaurants they had yet to eat at, they were texting. Literally from moment he woke up in the morning to when he went to bed at night, Niall was glued to his phone, constantly waiting for Zayn’s next message.

 

In this amount of time, the two found out that they were almost complete opposites: Niall was sunshine and care-free and full of energy and always up for a laugh; Zayn was dark and meticulous and artsy and enigmatic. But somehow, this friendship worked. Both were hesitant at first, tentative about sharing much about themselves after all the sexual tension. However, in time, they easily opened up about their childhoods, friends, families, favorite things, everything really. Nothing was off limits.

 

And seriously, Niall was happy. Happier than he had been in a while. Not to say that he wasn’t always looking on the bright side of life or that he didn’t have it good, he simply felt at ease and calm and content and just… happy whenever he saw or spoke to Zayn. He realized just how much the brown-haired boy had come to infiltrate his life on the evening Louis found out.

 

He hadn’t purposely forgotten to mention his new pal to his best friend. Honestly, he hadn’t been keeping it a secret to hurt Louis or because he was afraid of judgment. Niall just kind of liked the idea of Zayn being kept all to himself, that telling somebody, anybody, would make it less special.

 

Tonight the two roommates are sprawled across the couch, eating Indian takeaway and watching the Inbetweeners Movie, just laughing and having a good time. For the first time in a while they were actually alone together. It seemed as if Harry had basically taken up permanent residence in the apartment, not that Niall minded his amazing cooking skills and stupid jokes, but it was nice to have Louis all to himself, especially since both were so busy with Niall’s classes and gigs and Louis’ continued performances in the Tempest. So when he found out that Harry was going to be spending most of the night cramming for his Governmental Law exam, Niall decided that it was about time he and Louis had a good guys night.

 

“Alright, Tommo, what should we watch next?” Niall asks, stretching his arms above his head as the credits start rolling across the screen. “Another comedy, or maybe Die Hard for the billionth time?”

 

“Nah, let’s watch Ghost Protocol,” Louis says, already jumping off the couch to switch out the Inbetweener’s for Mission Impossible in the DVD player. Scooping up the last of the food off his plate and into his mouth, Niall stands up to take their dirty dishes to the kitchen sink and grab a pint of Rocky Road for dessert. While digging through their completely unorganized every-day utensils drawer for spoons, he hears an exaggerated cry from the living room. “Niall James Horan, you get your pale ass back in here and explain yourself immediately!”

 

Finally finding two spoons amongst the countless forks and chopsticks from old takeaway, Niall returns to the living room with the ice cream, wondering what he could have possibly done now. He stops in his tracks when he sees Louis standing in front of the coffee table, Niall’s phone gripped in his tight little fist and a look of pure indignation on his face.

 

“Why the fuck do you have a new text from one Zayn Malik on this cellular device of yours?” Louis asks, eyes daring Niall to lie to him.

 

Sighing to himself, Niall walks past his furious roommate to sit on the couch, opening the ice cream carton and spooning himself a big bite. “Relax, Lou, we’re friends now or whatever,” he replies, mouth full of chocolate.

 

“You’re friends now?! YOU’RE _FRIENDS_ NOW?!” Louis sputters out, eyes widened with outrage. “When did this happen, may I ask?”

 

“A couple of weeks ago.”

 

“A… A couple of weeks? A couple of fucking weeks? Weeks, Niall, A COUPLE OF WEEKS AGO?” Louis yells in disbelief, staring at the phone in his hand with resentment. “Why didn’t you fucking tell me, you ass hole? How the hell did this happen?”

 

Groaning, Niall puts down his spoon, rubbing his face with his hands and tries to explain himself: “He asked me out for lunch like three weeks ago, and he said he knew we couldn’t like, you know…date or shag or anything. But he said he wanted to get to know me better and asked if we could be mates. And I agreed.”

 

Louis just stares at him open-mouthed for a couple of moments. Trying to lower the tension in the room, Niall picks the ice cream back up, but before he can dip his spoon in, the cartoon is ripped from his hands. “Hey, what was that for?” Niall cries, reaching to snatch his dessert back from his annoyed roommate, who holds it out of reach.

 

“Ice cream belongs to those who tell their roommates important things about their lives,” Louis says with a huff, grabbing the extra spoon from where Niall left it on the coffee table, sitting down in his pile of blankets on the sofa, and taking a large bite. “Why didn’t you tell me Niall? Aren’t we supposed to be best friends?”

 

If Louis didn’t look so cute and sad curled up on the opposite end of the couch, Niall would have probably been a lot more upset at him for stealing the ice cream. But as it was, the brunette did actually look very offended that he hadn’t been privy to this portion of Niall’s life, so Niall crawls across the couch and puts his arms around his fussy friend, snuggling him in close. “I was going to tell you, honest. It’s just… I didn’t want to make a big deal about it. I really am sorry, Lou.”

 

After a couple seconds of silent pleading, Louis sighs, rolls his eyes, and offers Niall a spoonful of Rocky Road which he gratefully accepts. Reaching for the remote, he presses play to start the DVD, grabs his own spoon, and digs back into the ice cream, hoping that this discussion is over.

 

“So. This friendship of yours,” Louis says after they’re about a third of the way into the movie. Of course Louis couldn’t just drop it.

 

“What about this friendship of mine?”

 

“Well,” Louis says carefully, licking his lips to get the last bit of chocolate off of them, “It’s just that this is a bit strange and sudden, don’t you think?”

 

“Just tell me what you mean, Louis,” Niall says exasperatedly, shifting a little bit so he was in a bit more comfortable position, propped up against the sofa arm rest with Louis half on top of him, blankets swaddled around their legs.

 

Twisting his body so he could look the blonde in the face, Louis says: “It’s just that you say this has been going on for the past three weeks, yeah? And in that time, you have been spending a lot of time on campus. I figured you had a lot of work to do and you decided not to be a slacker for once in your life; but I take it you were probably hanging out with Zayn?”

 

“Yeah, well, we study together. He’s really studious and stuff,” Niall answers with a nod of his head.

 

“And in these three weeks you haven’t spent much time with Sandy, have you?”

 

“He’s been busy too, though!” Niall says defensively, feeling a bit guilty about that. Truth is, he hadn’t thought a lot about the bloke since the start of his new friendship. Sure, they’ve been texting a lot, but he hasn’t actually seen Sandy in the flesh since Olly’s birthday party and the disaster Louis had fondly dubbed ‘the Tongue Incident’. In any case, being friends with Zayn is no reason to stop hanging out with Sandy, and Niall makes a mental note to make plans with the boy for later that week.

 

“I guess I just want you to be careful.” Louis tells him gently, giving him a kind smile. “I know you think you’re just friends, and that’s great. Lord knows you’re one of the best friends anyone could ever ask for and he’s lucky to have you. But…are you sure he knows you’re only friends?”

 

“Of course he does, he’s the one who suggested it after all!”

 

Louis nods his head, reaching up to pinch Niall’s nose. “You’re so trusting, you know that? I don’t want you to get hurt, Ni. And something about this whole thing seems very strange to me.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Can’t put my finger on it.” Shrugging, Louis turns back to the movie, moving the almost finished carton of ice cream to the coffee table. “I’m probably just being paranoid. But if he tries to make a move on you, I’ll kick his scrawny ass.”

 

Laughing, Niall pulls his best friend closer, giving him a tight, affectionate squeeze. “You’re a good friend too, Tomlinson.”

 

***

 

It’s Thursday afternoon and once again, Niall finds himself in the library with Zayn, poring over one of the textbooks for his History of Music class. The two boys sit in relative silence, sipping on the coffee Niall bought them after class and reading for their respective classes. It’s October, meaning that mid-semester tests and grade reports are coming soon, and neither of them can afford to fall behind.

 

Sighing and rubbing his tired eyes, Niall looks up from the entirely boring chapter on the relationship between Gregorian chants and today’s church hymns, meaning to change songs on his iPod only to find Zayn shamelessly gazing at him through his thick black glasses frames. “What, do I have something on my face?” Niall jokes, cracking a smile from Zayn’s stoic face as he selects 12:51 by the Strokes off of his song list.

 

“No, you just…You look really nice today.”

 

_Talk to me now I’m older_

_Your friend told you ‘cause I told her_

 

Niall flushes at the remark, suddenly finding the Gregorian chants a lot more interesting to look at. Zayn constantly does that, catches him off guard with random, unexpected compliments. He’s simply wearing a grey pull-over, jeans, and his Supras, but the way Zayn is looking at him, Niall might as well be wearing a custom Armani silk suit. “Thank you,” he replies with a small grin, looking back up into his friend’s face.

 

“So, uh, do you have plans for tomorrow night?” Zayn asks a bit nervously, fiddling with his glasses.

 

“Uh, I actually do.” Niall answers, suddenly feeling reluctant to tell Zayn anymore.

 

_Friday nights have been lonely_

_Change your plans and then phone me_

 

“Oh. What’re you up to?”

 

“Well, you remember Sandy?” Zayn gestures he does, seeming a little annoyed at the mention of the other lad. “He offered to cook me dinner, and then we were gonna watch a movie or something.” Niall had, true to his word, called Sandy up and asked about hanging out, and the other lad, sweet as he was, had invited him over for a date-night in. It made him feel guilty for not being more attentive or talking to the boy as much. Maybe he had been spending more time with Zayn then he had thought.

 

_We could go and get 40’s_

_Fuck goin’ to that party_

 

Zayn just nods, clears his throat a little, and turns back to his Classical literature text, essentially ending the conversation there. Niall makes to do the same, but instead finds himself distractedly watching Zayn’s hands turn the pages of his book. His long slender fingers would gently rub the corner of the page before lightly flipping the page over, smoothing it down with the palm of his hand before he continued to read. It was mesmerizing.

 

_Oh really, your folks are away now?_

_Alright, let’s go, you convinced me_

 

About ten or so minutes go by and Niall is still hypnotized by the way Zayn’s eyes look in his glasses, moving slowly across the page, soaking up the words like he needs them to survive. It’s actually very erotic. Suddenly, he realizes he’s gone slightly hard at the thought of Zayn’s soft hands and quickly turns back to medieval era music, trying to think about anything but said hands jerking him off underneath the table.

 

_12:51 is the time my voice_

_Found the words I sought…_

_Is it this stage I want?_

 

He’s almost got his focus back when Zayn stands up to remove the cream jumper he was wearing, revealing a skin tight long-sleeved black shirt. Niall gulps a little, trying not to stare at how easily he can see Zayn’s well-defined pecs and abs through the thin cotton material of the top. He’s definitely not thinking about nice it would be if the Pakistani boy took of this shirt as well. Niall is interrupted from thoughts of topless, oiled-up Zayn when a foot brushes his calf under the table, nearly causing him to jump out of his seat at the contact. The foot just rests there, stroking up and down Niall’s calf. This cannot be accidental; Zayn is definitely doing this on purpose now.

 

_The world is shutting out for us_

_We were tense for sure,_

_But we were confident_

 

Textbook forgotten, Niall is now staring right at the other boy who, if he has noticed the blonde’s jumpy state is doing a good job of hiding it, still reading and taking notes. But he has to realize what he’s doing because now he’s running his tongue over his lips, very slowly. And now, he’s biting his lip, hard, just like he did when Niall was sucking him off in the bathroom…

 

_Kiss me now that I’m older_

_I won’t try to control you_

_Friday nights have been lonely_

_Take it slow but don’t warn me…_

 

It’s all too much for the sex-deprived lad and he finds himself jumping up from the table, ripping his earbuds out of his ears, twisting his body so Zayn can’t see his complete boner, and excusing himself with a quickly muttered “Loo,” as he walks away from a thoroughly amused Zayn as fast as he can.

 

He winds his way through tables of students revising, pushes past a couple of students reading in the library stacks, and bursts into the men’s toilet. Checking under the stalls to make sure no one is there, he locks himself in the last one, unzips his pants and pulls out his hard dick.

 

Leaning against the door and closing his eyes, he wraps his hand around himself, and begins to pull hard, wishing Zayn was here to do it for him. He moans a little, remembering how careful and soft and skilled Zayn’s fingers had been before, opening him up and gently massaging his balls and tugging on his dick til he came. And it’s too much. With a hiss, Niall comes all over his hand a few tugs later, shuddering as he rides out his orgasm before collapsing on the toilet, hunched over, and breathing heavily. What the fuck.

 

After a few deep breaths, he grabs a few squares of toilet paper and cleans himself off as best as he can. Niall is furious with himself. When did it get to the point where he was so turned on by fucking _fingers_ that he had to have a wank in the university’s library? Groaning, he pulls up his pants and exits the stall to find a very entertained Zayn leaning by the sinks.

 

“You were taking a while, just wanted to make sure you were okay, mate.” Zayn says with a smirk. Niall immediately flushes bright red and goes to the sink to wash his still sticky hands, refusing to make eye contact with the delighted boy.

 

“Oh, you know, the eggsalad I had for lunch had probably gone bad,” he stutters out, taking his time to carefully dry his hands.

 

“You sure you’re alright? You look a little flushed, babe,” Zayn says, biting back a laugh. Niall just glares at him. Who does he think he is? Turning on poor boys in the library and then laughing at them when they are forced to do something about it? It’s just not fair.

 

“Come on, we have a lot of studying left to do.” And with that, Niall pushes pasts Zayn to exit the loo, pretending not to see how pleased and smug the other lad looks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Ok so I think I finally know what's going to happen/how I'm going to end this horrible mess I've created! Yay!
> 
> Also, I think I'll probably have about 8-10 more chapters, just depends on how long I end up making the next couple. And I'm going to start making links to the songs, because they're my favorites and you should all listen to them because they're amazing =]


	9. Heartbeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo sorry this is so late after the last chapter! 
> 
> Niall goes on his date, Sandy is suspicious of his new friendship with Zayn, Niall ends up hanging out with Zayn anyway, Zayn reveals a lot of heavy stuff, Liam is sad and confused and I don't even know anymore this story is getting me all in my feels.
> 
> But I still promise happiness in the end!

[Heartbeat](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wq-8dxYHnyU)

 

Niall arrives at Sandy’s flat at exactly 7:57pm, three minutes early because he figures that will show his date that he does care, contrary to his behavior the past few weeks. Dressed in black jeans and one of Louis’ ‘fancy’ jumpers (a cream-colored cashmere thing he got on sale at some over-priced department store) and carrying the decently-priced bottle of wine he picked up at Tesco’s on the way over, it is sufficient to say that he is nervous as he opens the flat door once Sandy buzzes him in. Niall climbs the stairs to the second floor apartment slowly, stopping to wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans before knocking on door 239.

 

“It’s open!” Sandy’s cheery voice rings from inside. Pushing open the door, Niall steps into the flat and looks around. Sandy’s place is very nice, very nice indeed. The older bloke had graduated from uni two years earlier and had a pretty decent job working as a classical bassist with some fancy London orchestra; playing with the No Names was more of a hobby. The spacious living room (complete with electric fireplace, which just happens to be lit) indicates just how well-off the boy apparently is, and separates from the kitchen by the breakfast bar, behind which Sandy is setting out plates, glasses, and utensils. “Hey, gorgeous! I hope you’re hungry,” Sandy says, smiling widely as Niall takes in the nice leather furniture and cheerful art on the walls.

 

“You know me, always hungry,” Niall laughs as he approaches the breakfast bar and leans over to give Sandy a quick peck on the lips. “So what did you make me?”

 

“Vegetable risotto and chicken,” Sandy says as he turns back to the saucepans on the stove. “Why don’t you put on some music while I plate these up for us?”

 

Nodding his head, Niall walks over to the stereo system Sandy pointed out next to the television set and plugs in the iPod he finds sitting next to it. Scrolling through the impressive collection of classic rock, R&B, and indie music he finds on there, Niall picks Heartbeat by The Kopecky Family Band. Bobbing his head to the beginning notes, he turns to sit at the bar where there are now two plates of steaming food and two glasses of wine in front of a still smiling Sandy.

 

_And I don’t knowknow_

_I don’t know what I can do for you_

 

Raising his glass, Sandy toasts: “To a great night with a special boy,” laughing when Niall ducks his flushed face and raising his own glass before taking a large swallow.

 

_You make my heart beat beat a beat_

_Like a drum for you_

 

“So what have you been up to lately?” Sandy asks, setting down his glass and picking up his fork to take a bite of chicken. “Saw Liam the other day, said you’ve been hanging out a lot with Zayn?”

 

_Everyday is closer_

_Don’t take it back no no sir_

 

“Yeah, I guess. He’s a good friend,” Niall says hurriedly in what he hopes is a casual, nonchalant way, trying not to flush as he shovels a mouthful of food into his mouth. Why in hell would he decide to bring this up right now? Is he suspicious? Is Liam suspicious? Not that they have anything to be suspicious of. At least not anymore. And what the fuck were they doing talking about Niall and Zayn anyway? Trying to change the subject, Niall utters out a truthful: “This is fucking delicious, Sandy.”

 

_I’ll play my favorite part for you-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oh_

 

“I knew you’d like it,” he replies, inclining his head in agreement. “Told you I could cook. So… Is he a cool guy, Zayn?”

 

So much for a subject change. “Yeah, he’s pretty cool.”

 

_I’m in a strange position_

_Come on and join where I have been_

 

“Liam talks about him like the sun shines from his ass,” Sandy laughs, reaching over the bar to grab the half-empty bottle of wine from the counter to top them both off. “He really loves that boy, you know.”

 

_I’ll keep the door wide open for you-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oh_

 

Niall just nods his head, gulping down a bite of risotto with a huge swallow of wine, scrambling to think of anything else they could talk about, anything but how much Liam Goddamn Payne loves Zayn Fucking Malik. But before he can talk about last week’s football game, or about the gig he is setting up for later that week, or even the possibility dying his hair a lighter shade of blonde, Sandy continues on.

 

“If I didn’t know him any better, I’d think that Liam was getting jealous of how much time you two spend together. Apparently you’re all Zayn talks about.”

 

_And I don’t know know_

_I don’t know what I can do for you_

 

“He’s just a good mate, you know,” Niall mutters, trying to force out a nervous laugh, and ignoring Sandy’s questioning look, focusing on getting the right balance of risotto and chicken on his fork. Why is he still going on about this?

 

Finally, Sandy nods, smiles, and seems to drop the subject, asking instead with a smirk: “So, did you watch Derby get crushed last weekend?”

 

_You make my heart beat beat a beat_

_Like a drum for you_

 

***

 

Another glass of wine and two hours later, the two lads are sitting on the couch, eating tiramisu out of the pan, and watching old episodes of Skins on telly. Well, not really watching. More like trying to shove cake in each other’s faces and giggling like schoolgirls. It’s a fun date, Niall decides. Sure, there were a couple of long pauses and that awkward moment when he called Sandy’s bass a cello. But other than that, the evening had gone relatively smoothly and Niall was proud of himself for making it through. And now they’re cake fighting: the perfect end to a first legitimate date.

 

One moment Niall is trying to scoop up as much whip cream as he can with his spoon to wipe all over Sandy’s smug mouth and the next, the other boy is capturing his lips with a kiss. Niall kisses back tentatively, vividly remembering what happened last time they kissed like this, praying to whoever is up there listening that he doesn’t fuck this up again. When Sandy starts to nip at his bottom lip, hand reaching around his waist to firmly encircle it, Niall carefully puts down his spoonful of cream back into the pan on the coffee table and opens his mouth for Sandy’s coffee-tasting tongue.

 

Ok, he can do this. It’s just kissing and it’s… it’s nice. It’s not like anyone is naked. Well at least not yet. And this is… nice. He can do kissing. Sandy’s hands are large and strong, one still curled around his back, the other sneaking just beneath his jumper to rub little circles over his hips with one callused thumb. Counting to three in his head, Niall gently rests his hands on Sandy’s chest, and tries to get into it. It’s just kissing, he should be getting into it. Sandy takes his little gesture as an invitation to go further, pushing Niall back on the couch and hovering above him, licking into his mouth more insistently and Niall tries his best to reciprocate. It’s just hard to find a good rhythm, that’s all. When they find their rhythm, Niall will get more into this and it will all be fine. Large hands are urgently running through his hair, destroying what is left of his once-perfect quiff, and Niall counts to three once more before moving his hands from where they stayed on Sandy’s chest to spread across his wide, strong back.

 

When Sandy’s hips roll down to grind against his groin, Niall suddenly becomes painfully aware just how soft he is. Just how _soft_ he is? What the actual fuck? Here he is, on the couch with a handsome, sweet boy who just cooked him a grade-A dinner, complete with electric fireplace and fancy Italian desert, who is now kissing him with so much passion and grinding down on him in an incredibly practiced and sensual way, and here is, as hard as marshmallow whip.

 

 “God you’re beautiful, Niall,” Sandy whispers against his lips, fingers slowly creeping toward the waistband of his jeans. Oh shit. Sandy can’t know about this. How the hell do you explain why you’re softer than a down pillow in the middle of a very sexy act?

 

Panicking, Niall makes a split-second decision and uses all his strength to try to flip Sandy on his back, who eagerly complies, pulling Niall on top of him. Straddling him, Niall quickly bends over to lick Sandy’s thin lips, urging him to open them as he grips the other boys obvious boner through his jeans. Groaning, Sandy bucks his hip up, trying to create more friction against his hard-on. Ok, so now he just has to give Sandy what he wants, and he’ll never notice how freaked out Niall is. Ok. He can do this.

 

After a few calculated minutes of careful snogging and palming through tented pants, Niall decides that now is a good time to proceed with whatever the fuck it is he’s doing. He fumbles with the buttons of Sandy’s jeans, trying to decide whether it would be better to suck the horny lad off or give him a quick hand job. A flash of the memory of Zayn’s wide, dark eyes staring lustfully at him the last time he blew him causes Niall’s dick to finally twitch (that is both surprising and not surprising at all). Shaking his head to clear his mind, Niall immediately shoots down the idea of putting his mouth anywhere near Sandy’s cock, which is now lying hard against his exposed stomach from where Niall pushed up his button-down shirt.

 

Sucking in a deep, steadying breath, Niall grips Sandy’s dick in one hand and starts to gently move his hand up and down, listening to the boy’s gasps and moans to know just how to stroke him right. Sandy is muttering obscene things, eyes clenched shut as he thrusts up into Niall’s now-slick fist. And Niall does his best: he kisses Sandy’s neck every once in awhile, and whispers in his ear about how hot this is and runs his thumb over the sensitive top of his cock and tries not to think about how a certain dark-haired boy would look beneath him. It’s over quickly. Sandy comes hard all over Niall’s fist, laughing a little and panting as he reaches up to drag the blonde down for a kiss. “That was amazing, love.”

 

Smiling a little, Niall gives him another little kiss before rolling off of him and walking into the kitchen to grab some paper towels for his sticky hand. See, that wasn’t so bad, now was it? Hand jobs are ok. Niall can do hand jobs. And Sandy thought he was into it, right? Apparently the Irishman is a very convincing actor; he should probably go into porn or something. Mentally congratulating himself, Niall throws the paper towels away when he feels warm hands wrap around his chest from behind as Sandy kisses the back of his neck. “Let me take care of you,” he whispers in his ear, lowering large hands towards Niall’s still soft dick.

 

“No, it’s ok,” Niall says quickly, turning around and wrapping his arms around Sandy’s neck and giving him a quick peck on the lips. “It’s getting late; I should probably head back home.”

 

Sandy gives him what Niall assumes is probably supposed to be an endearing pout. “Oh come on, we never even finished Sid’s episode. Don’t you want to see if he ever loses it to Michelle?”

 

Chuckling, Niall untangles himself from the other boy’s strong arms with a little smile. “Babe, you already know he stays a virgin til the second season. Besides, Louis will worry if I’m not home soon.”

 

Gathering his keys and wallet, the Irishman gives him one last kiss on the cheek before letting himself out, declining Sandy’s offer to walk him to his car. He steps out of the building into the crisp October night, wrapping his arms around himself as he trots towards his car. Starting it up, Niall looks at the clock on the dashboard: it’s only 10:37 pm.

 

Sighing, he thinks for a moment. It’s still relatively early in the evening. He knows he told Sandy that Louis would be waiting up for him, and although that is probably true, his overzealous roommate is probably passing the time fucking Harry all over the apartment. Niall definitely doesn’t want to go home to all of that. After a few moments of hesitation, he reaches for his phone and sends off a quick text message.

 

He only has to wait a couple of seconds before his mobile goes off. Reading the new message hastily, Niall grins to himself and starts up his car, driving off into the night.

 

***

 

Zayn opens his apartment door in glasses, sweatpants and a tank top that shows off his many tattoos, a wide smile that reaches his eyes brightening up his face. “Hey!”

 

“Hi,” Niall says, ducking his head as the other lad reaches out to pull him in for a tight, quick hug, finding himself instantly relaxing in the comfort of Zayn’s scrawny arms. “Hope you don’t mind me bothering you this late.”

 

Zayn shakes his head vigorously, pulling the blonde into the incredibly clean apartment. “No, not at all. Liam’s out with some of his friends and I’ve just been catching up with some reading. It’s good to have company,” he replies happily, like he’s genuinely excited that Niall took the time out of his life to come hang out with him.

 

The two drop unceremoniously on the couch as Niall takes in his surroundings, realizing that the last time he was in here was that night. Zayn doesn’t seem to notice his apprehension, gently picking up his copy of Wuthering Heights from where he left it on the couch, and carefully placing it to the side, noting which page he left off.

 

“So, why are you done with your date so early? How was it” Zayn asks a bit cautiously, as if he’s not sure if he should be asking about these things.

 

Niall shrugs his shoulders, toeing off his sneakers so he can tuck his feet underneath himself. “It was good. He cooked for me, so that was nice. You know I always love food.”

 

“Didn’t stay for dessert or something?” Zayn asks. Noticing Niall’s confused look he hurries on to explain: “It’s just it’s not that late. And I’d have figured you’d probably end up staying the night or whatever…”

 

Shaking his head, Niall says: “No. I mean yeah we did have dessert. You know how I love my desserts. But we’re not at that point really. Not that I was uncomfortable… I just didn’t want to overstay my welcome or anything like that. Besides, now I get to spend time with you too, right?”

 

Zayn seems relieved and pleased at that, still looking as if he wants to ask more about the date, but then thinks better of it and changes the subject to the dreadful absence of chocolate filled pastries at their favorite coffee cart.

 

In no time, the two boys are just sitting on the couch, laughing and talking about nothing, catching up on what had happened in the 24 hours since they last saw one another. The whole situation is comfortable and easy and familiar; Niall feels like he belongs on that couch, that he’s meant to be sitting there, cracking horrible jokes and trading stories about childhood memories. It’s just so natural and perfect.

 

“Hey, I’m playing a show next week,” Niall says after they’ve been talking for almost three hour (how time flies when you’re with someone you enjoy)“It’s this open mic thing.”

 

“Are you now?” Zayn says, smiling. “Am I invited to attend?”

 

“’Course!”

 

The tan lad ruffles Niall’s hair affectionately. “Well then I’ll make it my priority to be there. Do you need help putting up fliers or anything?”

 

Oh shit, his fliers! Josh had once given him the idea to put up pamphlets advertising his shows around the campus, but Niall of course could never be bothered to remember. It was usually Louis who would remind him a few days before to get the blasted things typed up and sent to the printers. Figures Zayn would remember something like that. But wait…

 

“How did you know I put up fliers?” Niall asks, curious because he’s pretty sure he’s never remembered the stupid pieces of paper long enough to actually mention them to Zayn.

 

Strangely, Zayn gets a little flustered, tugging at his flat fringe and not meeting Niall’s eyes. Weird. “I uh… I saw one of them. Like after I met you. After that night. Cuz, uh, you uh… You probably forgot to take down or something? I don’t know, I just happened to uh, to spot it.”

 

Shrugging his shoulders, Niall starts to think out loud: “I should probably design them when I get home so I can make Louis take them to the printers tomorrow so they’ll be ready to hang up by Monday. And of course I’ll have to bribe him to do it, because of course Louis Tomlinson cannot be bothered to do anything pro-bono. You’re good at art, right? I should make you design the flier. Probably would look better than anything I could—”

 

And then thin, chapped lips are on his own and Niall completely forgets what he was just talking about because Zayn is kissing him and his lips are slow and gentle and sweet and it just feels so right. He shouldn’t be doing this; this isn’t supposed to happen anymore. They agreed not to let this happen anymore. This is wrong. But how could something so wrong feel so… So fucking perfect?

 

His brain is too messed up by all the feelings and heat rushing through his entire body and his heart is hammering too loudly in his ears for him to pay attention to his thoughts, so Niall just lets go of all contemplations, and concentrates instead on how good it feels to just kiss someone and enjoy it. Neither of them has moved their arms, not daring to touch one another, just lips and tongues moving together in sync. He swears they don’t even take a breath, don’t dare move unless the spell that is allowing them to do this breaks. They just sit there, hands folded in laps, and kiss sweetly. Niall doesn’t know how long they spend like that, just kissing and kissing and kissing before they hear Liam approaching the door, talking to someone.

 

Slowly, they pull away from each other as they hear the key in the door lock. Niall wants to look away from Zayn, wants to make himself feel less guilty because he just kissed Zayn and they aren’t supposed to do that anymore. But the other lad won’t break eye contact. Instead, he reaches one hand over and gives Niall’s wrist a quick squeeze before his boyfriend and Jon come in, laughing loudly.

 

“Hello sweetheart!” Liam says cheerfully, walking over to the couch to give Zayn a kiss on the lips, not seeming to notice that his boyfriend was still gripping Niall’s wrist. “And hello to you Niall! How are you, mate?”

 

“Yeah, I’m uh… I’m good. How are you Liam? And you Jon?” Niall stutters, finally tearing his gaze away from Zayn’s face to look up into Liam’s always-kind eyes. But there’s something behind the kindness: wariness of some sort.

 

“Can’t complain,” Liam shrugs, removing his jacket and walking over to the closet to hang it up neatly.

 

“Same here,” Jon says, lowering himself onto the couch next to Niall. “Haven’t seen you around lately, Ni. What’ve you been up to?”

 

“Haven’t you heard? Niall and Zayn are best mates now; they spend all their time together,” Liam says with a laugh as he walks into the kitchen. “Anybody want anything to drink? Niall, we have beer?”

 

“’M fine,” Niall mutters, ears turning red as Liam returns to the living room with a glass of water, a beer, and a funny look on his face.

 

“Oh yeah, Sandy told me you two were spending a lot of time together,” Jon says, accepting the bottle of ale from Liam and turning towards Niall curiously. “Seems like that one drunken night really did form a lovely story of friendship, eh?” he says, laughing to himself.

 

Niall wants to punch a wall. Once again, everyone’s making a huge deal about his friendship with Zayn. It really isn’t anyone’s business who he hangs out with, nor does anyone need to ask themselves why they click so well. And why is Sandy talking about this with everyone? Is it really that big of deal that Niall enjoys Zayn’s company so much that he has to talk about it to everyone he knows? Not to mention, bringing up the night they met was a low blow. How does Jon even know about that? He and Niall don’t even talk like that. Without even realizing it, Niall’s fists start to clench up, face turning red in frustration, but what Zayn says next calms him down almost instantly.

 

“Yeah, we’re really good mates. Best mates even. Niall’s fun to be around, nice to hang out with. And who cares how we met? Only thing that matters is that we did, because he’s brought a lot of positivity to my life and I like spending time with him. It seems to me I should be grateful I found him that night because I gained a really good study partner and lunch buddy and friend. So yes, we are mates and it works and that is all.”

 

The silence after Zayn’s little speech is strange. Jon just nods his head and sips his beer, accepting his words for the truth as if all his questions about the validity of their friendship were answered. And Liam… Liam still has a smile plastered on his handsome face. But it looks forced and strained, doesn’t reach his usually warm brown eyes. Niall doesn’t know what to think.

 

Jon breaks the awkward silence. “So, how was your date tonight? Sandy treat you right?”

 

Niall smiles and nods, flushing pink. “Yeah, he made this incredible meal, chicken and this rice stuff. I didn’t know he could cook so well.”

 

“I know right, back when we were roommates I used to make him cook for me every night,” Jon agrees, relaxing a little when the tension in the air starts to clear. “He likes you a whole lot, you know. Called me up as soon as you left and talked my ear off about how amazing you are and what a lovely night you two had. I could barely hear him over the noise in the pub, but the obvious love was there.”

 

Obvious love? Niall blushes even harder, trying not to think about Sandy talking him all cute and excited on the phone while Jon laughs over a pint. He feels pressure on his wrist and looks up to see Zayn glaring at Jon, like he had been talking about kicking puppies and pushing over grandma’s instead of insinuating the fact that someone else might be in love with Niall. Looking away from Zayn, Niall looks up to see Liam staring at his boyfriend, obvious hurt in his eyes.

 

“Right, well I’m headed to bed. Gotta get up early to go to the gym,” Liam says with false cheeriness.

 

Jon gets up quickly, sensing something is off with his friend and downs the rest of his beer before saying: “Me too, got a lot of work to catch up on tomorrow. See you guys.” And with that, he claps Zayn and Niall on the back, gives Liam a short hug, and heads out the door with a wave and a smile.

 

Liam finishes his water, places the empty glass back in the kitchen and moves toward his and Zayn’s bedroom door before looking back hesitantly. “You coming, honey?”

 

“In a minute babe. Just want to see Niall out,” Zayn replies, unable to look into his boyfriends pleading eyes. Niall just sits their awkwardly, wondering what is going on between the two of them, realizing that Zayn’s thin fingers are still gripping his wrist. With a sad nod, Liam leaves the room without a word, bedroom door closing gently behind him.

 

“Zayn…” Niall whispers as soon as they’re alone. But the other boy just shakes his head and pulls him up from the couch by the wrist, out the door and into the hallway. He pushes the unsuspecting blonde into the lift and presses the ground floor button, refusing to say anything or make eye contact the entire ride down. When they exit the building, Zayn pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket and lights up, taking a long drag before finally looking into Niall’s eyes.

 

“You want one? I know you don’t smoke often—”

 

“Zayn, we need to talk about this. That kiss… We shouldn’t have and you know it.” Niall interrupts.

 

“So you don’t want one?”

 

“Zayn, come on.”

 

“I mean I know you’re more of a Menthol type of person, why I don’t know. But Marlboro’s get the job done too. And you look like you’re itching for a smoke.”

 

“Zayn!” Niall yells, completely exasperated. Why is he being so fucking difficult? “Can you shut up about the damn cigarettes and listen to me? We just kissed. And your boyfriend seems pissed and confused and mistrustful. And I’m pissed and confused because we said we weren’t going to do this. And then there’s Sandy who apparently really likes me and I don’t even know what’s happening with him because apparently I can’t get it up around him. And we were going to be friends and not hook up, that’s the only way this was going to work. So tell me, why the fuck did you kiss me?”

 

Zayn gives him a curious look. “Can’t get it up around him?”

 

“ZAYN!”

 

“Alright, alright,” Zayn says, shrugs and take another drag, blowing out the smoke after a moment. “Honestly, I just really wanted to. I still have feelings for you Niall, I can’t deny that.”

 

That is not the correct answer.

 

“But you have to. You have a fucking boyfriend, Z!” Niall cries, frusturated and angry. He steps away from Zayn and makes to go to his car and drive home, but freezes when he feels cool, scrawny fingers lightly touch his cheek. Sighing, he turns to see hazel eyes imploring with him not to be upset.

 

“I know I do. And I know it’s fucked up. I’m fucked up. This entire situation is fucked up. But, Ni, I don’t want to not be your friend. I don’t think I can go without talking to you and hanging out with you. I miss you when I’m not with you. And that sucks so bad. I meant what I said back there: I’m so glad for that night just because it meant I finally got to spend time with you.”

 

If Niall was rational and realistic and practical and everything else he wasn’t, he would have been a bit disturbed to hear that Zayn was so attracted to him, so dependent on spending time with him even with a perfectly fit boyfriend waiting in bed just a couple floors up. If his brain had been able to form any coherent thoughts, he would have probably wondered what Zayn meant by finally getting to spend time with him. If his mind wasn’t so fuzzy from how close Zayn’s face was to his own, so close he could smell the nicotine on Zayn’s breath, Niall would have suddenly remembered that Louis had taken down all his fliers the night of his show because he was upset at Niall for not inviting him, making it completely impossible for Zayn to find one after that Friday night. And if Niall had been able to think all these thoughts, he probably would have demanded a better explanation instead of staring woozily into eyes dripping with fondness and genuineness.

 

But, Niall is none of these things, nor is he able to think about anything except the raw sincerity in Zayn’s voice and how it’s is just so cute when he gets all emotional like that. Smiling, Niall nods and leans forward to give Zayn’s cheek a little kiss. “We’ll just call it a purely friendly platonic kiss, ok?”

 

Sighing with relief, Zayn’s entire face lights up as he nods emphatically before removing his hand from Niall’s face.

 

“Now you should go back in, Liam’s waiting for you. And I really need to head home.” And with that, Niall gives his friend one last grin before turning to walk away, not allowing himself to look back and see Zayn watch him walk back to his car with longing in his eyes.

 

Driving home, he plugs in his iPod and presses shuffle, grinning a little when he hears what comes out of the speakers.

 

_This is the part we both know_

_We cover our skin cause it’s so cold_

_How did I find myself here with you-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oh_

As he drives on he starts to think. And that is something he really shouldn’t be doing right now, but he can’t help it. If he’s going to be completely honest with himself, those few minutes of kissing Zayn was better than anything he and Sandy had done at all on their date. Ugh. Sandy. Jon’s comments were still in his head and it scared him, a lot. Yes, Niall likes him, quite a bit even, but there’s no spark. He was groped in what would seem to any other normal person to be a very intimate, heated setting and he was _soft_. He had been fucking _soft_! The only time he felt his dick even move a little had been thinking about Zayn. Fucking Zayn Malik.

 

_Granted you play your cards right_

_Baby I swear I won’t fight_

_I like this game we’re playing, do you-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oh?_

Zayn. Niall only has to think about him and his heart starts to beat faster. Groaning, Niall speeds down the road to his own apartment, trying to convince himself that purely platonic friendly kisses were commonplace and normal and could happen even if both boys were supposed to be seeing other people. Yes, of course the kiss had been full of passion, but friendly passion. Passion between friends. Passionate friends sharing a passionate platonic kiss.

 

_And I don’t know know_

_I don’t know what I can do for you_

 

Fuck.

_You make my heart beat beat a beat_

_Like a drum for you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I am so so so so sorry this is so late like it's been so long but I have a god excuse because school is hard and I hate biochemistry but I'm trying so I made the chapter extra long! Yayyy!
> 
> Anyway, if anyone's actually going to read this... Thank you and I love you guys and I'm sorry to keep you waiting and feedback is lovely and I love you!! xx


	10. All This And Heaven Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn reveals more about his relationship and Niall has an epiphany.

[All This And Heaven Too](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P0lZpqtOw_U)

 

The rest of the weekend, Niall and Zayn text like nothing has ever happened between the two of them: Zayn never brings up the kiss and neither does Niall, figuring that the other boy wants to move past everything and renew their pact to just be friends. Zayn, ever thoughtful as he is, has gone ahead and made fliers for the open mic that is happening that Thursday (knowing full well that Niall would never remember to do such a thing) and offers to help him hang them up that Monday after classes.

 

Standing outside of the building where Zayn has his lecture on 16th Century Poetry, Niall shifts from side to side, nervously fidgeting with his watch as he checks the time every few seconds. Why he’s so anxious to his friend again, he does not know. But for some reason, he hadn’t been able to sleep well the night before, ended up spending a good twenty minutes on his hair that morning, and had arrived at the building early just to make sure he wouldn’t be late. Niall is never, ever worried about being late. Ever. He checks his watch again and sighs: Zayn’s class should have been let out three minutes ago and still no sign of him. Not that three minutes was a long time. Zayn could easily be going to the bathroom or talking to his professor or getting something to eat. Or maybe calling Liam.

 

Just as he’s about to leave, convinced that he was confused about what Zayn really meant when he said ‘Meet me outside the Lit building at 3:30 pm so we can hang up your fliers’, Niall spots Zayn’s leather jacketed form make his way out of the brick building. And he looks good. Hot. Gorgeous even. For some reason, Zayn decided today was a good day to wear sinfully tight khaki pants, an even tighter black t-shirt, and, of course, his classic leather jacket. His hair is perfectly styled, putting Niall’s own time-consuming quiff to shame. Even Zayn’s stubble seems perfectly engineered to make Niall’s heart beat faster. Actually, not only is his heart acting strange, his palms are sweaty, his stomach is churning, and suddenly, his mind is filled with an endless chant of _ZaynZaynZaynZaynZayn_.

 

He needs to pick up a hobby or something, anything to get these thoughts out of his head.

 

“Hey, Ni!” Zayn says, coming over to where he is standing on the sidewalk and giving him a quick hug, letting go too soon for Niall’s taste. “So I was super bored this weekend, not a lot of work to do since I had all my exams last week. Anyway, I had some time and I made a quick sketch for the poster…” he says, fishing a stack of paper out of his bag and handing one to Niall, nervously watching to see what the young musician thinks of his work.

 

“Zayn. These are fucking brilliant mate,” Niall exclaims, genuinely fascinated with the flier. The pale green page has Niall’s name at the top, and information about the show below, including the date and time. Pretty standard for any advertisement. But what really stands out is the ‘quick sketch’ Zayn has done for the background. It’s an incredibly detailed drawing of Niall’s hand, poised over his guitar’s sound hole, mid-chord. Not only is the sketch crazy realistic and accurate, it must have taken a long time to do. And it’s definitely Niall’s hand: the nails are bitten down and you can even see the little scar he got years ago falling off his skateboard. “Seriously, man, I’m impressed.”

 

Zayn blushes a little, shrugging his shoulders and trying to play off the praise as no big deal. “It’s not my best work,” he mutters, walking towards the main campus where they plan to start hanging the leaflets up.

 

“If this isn’t your best work, then I definitely want to see what else you can do,” Niall says incredulously, trotting a bit to catch up with the long-legged lad.

 

“It’s really nothing, Ni.”

 

“No it’s not! It’s like… real art and shit.”

 

“Niall. Shut up.”

 

“Not until you admit you can draw.”

 

“No.”

 

“But you can!”

 

“But I really can’t.”

 

“Zayn!” Niall cries, laughing a little as he grabs the other guys arm, stopping him in his tracks. “Why can’t you just admit you’re good at something for once?”

 

Zayn shrugs his arm out of Niall’s grip, irritated for some reason, and resumes walking up the street towards the student union. “Because I’m not and it’s not that big of a deal. Can you just drop it, Niall, please.”

 

Confused at Zayn’s sudden coldness, Niall follows after him, cautiously staying behind him until they enter the building. Wordlessly, both boys start taping posters to every wall and bulletin board they can find, silently passing the roll of masking tape Zayn had thoughtfully bought between the two of them until the entire first floor is covered in pictures of Niall’s hand.

 

It’s only when they move outside to put up fliers on the outside of the other academic buildings that Zayn finally speaks: “It’s not that I don’t know I can draw well. I just… it’s not something I like to talk about.”

 

Niall tapes up two fliers outside the Plant Sciences building before turning to look at Zayn curiously. “Why not?”

 

Sighing, Zayn crosses from Plant Sciences to the Chemistry building, tacking up more posters as he does and ignoring Niall who trails close behind. After a few more quiet moments of flier hanging, Niall assumes that the conversation is over and is trying to think of something else they can talk about, anything to defuse the current tension, when Zayn finally answers him. Sensing that this is important, Niall keeps still, deciding Zayn will explain more if he’s unaided.

 

“You have to understand, when I first met Liam, it was literally on my first day at this university, yeah? We were roommates for orientation and he amazed me. See, I had spent all of college suppressing my sexuality, or whatever it is. Actually, I had a girlfriend, Perrie, for the longest time. But it was never enough, never what I wanted out of a relationship. She broke up with me before I left Bradford, told me to go find myself and shit. Which, of course, confused me even more. So, meeting this fit guy, who was openly gay and so confident in himself, astonished me. I had never met anyone like him. So when he asked me out, how could I say no?

 

“At first it was incredible. I had never been with a guy, never had the opportunity to. And it was this unbelievable feeling, knowing who I was for a while. Like yeah, Perrie was amazing; but she was nothing like Liam. Two months after we met, he told me he loved me. So I said it back. And that was that, we were together, inseparable LiamandZayn forever.”

 

Pausing for a second, Zayn motions at Niall for them to sit down on a nearby bench, taking a break from hanging up leaflets to properly discuss this. Fiddling with his jacket zipper, Zayn continues after a long while: “Did you know I was originally here for art? I had this whole plan to get my degree in painting, set up my own gallery, and sell my work. Do my own thing really. But Liam… he always said that I should get a ‘real’ degree and do my art on the side. After my first semester, he helped me fill out the forms for English Lit.”

 

“That’s total bullshit,” Niall exclaims, unable to help himself from interrupting. “You should’ve stuck with what you wanted to!”

 

Zayn just nods, gets back up, and starts heading towards the Physics building to resume his task. “He’s right, you know. There aren’t a lot of jobs for artists out there and life would be a lot less secure. And I do paint on the side. I have a studio and everything.”

 

“Still. I don’t like that. You think I don’t know the whole ‘struggling-musician’ thing? That doesn’t mean I’m not gonna play my music.”

 

Putting up the last of the posters, Zayn looks up at Niall and smiles. “And I admire you for that, Ni. You’re a lot braver than I am. But that’s old stuff, yeah?”

 

Not wanting to end the conversation, but even more, not wanting to upset Zayn, Niall agrees, realizing that maybe Liam was not as perfect as he seemed.

 

“You’ll take me to see your art someday, though?” he asks, curious about what it was Zayn could do with a blank canvas.

 

The other lad’s face lights up at that, as if he can’t believe that someone would actually be interested in seeing his creative side.

 

“I’d love that, Niall.”

 

***

 

Thursday afternoon, Niall rushes home from class to get ready for his show. Although technically an open mic night at one of the pubs nearby, the owners, not wanting a shit-show full of off-key wannabe-singers had personally invited some of the students in the UWL music program to perform, including Niall. He had this whole pre-show ritual he did every single time he played any real venue. First off, he had to wear his toe-pinching dirty old converse. He wasn’t sure why, it was just one of those crucial things he couldn’t go one stage without having on his feet. Secondly, he always had to have a pint nearby while he was playing: didn’t have to drink it, just had to have it nearby (probably something to do with his Irish nature to be honest). And lastly, he had to have at least a two hour nap the day of his performance to rest his soul and discharge bad mojo or whatever. Most likely, Niall just liked the sleep, but he preferred to tell people that he had to relax his body to release melodies from his mouth. Load of bullshit, but still. He needed his nap.

 

That’s why when he approaches his apartment door and he hears laughing, Niall is prepared to kick Louis and whoever he has over out of the flat so he can sleep. Pausing in the midst of unlocking the door, he hears a high-pitched cackle, loud snorting, and… another smooth, heavily accented voice adding into the familiar mix of sounds. Opening the door, he finds three boys in hysterics over some story one of them is recounting.

 

“…So I tried to tell him that this curry was a lot hotter than he was used to, but the poor idiot said he ate curry all the time and was definitely an expert on what was spicy and what was not. And then, and then, he actually shovels a huge forkful in his mouth! You should’ve seen his face, his eyes were so red, I’m pretty sure he cried!”

 

“Oi! What the fuck is going on in here?” Niall shouts, glaring at Louis, Harry, and Zayn who are all sitting in on the living room floor, laughing too hard to answer him. “I need sleep, guys! You know I need my pre-performance siesta!”

 

“I’m sorry Niall,” Harry wheezes, struggling to catch his breath. “We’ll be quieter, I swear. It’s just, Zayn’s so funny!”

 

“Yeah, Nialler,” Louis agrees, clutching his stomach in pain. “Where have you been hiding this one?”

 

Zayn, to his credit, just looks up at the annoyed blonde, hazel eyes crinkling with amusement as he motions for Niall to sit next to him. “Come on, babes, we’re just having a laugh. Join us?”

 

Ignoring the fluttering feeling he gets in his chest at hearing Zayn using the word ‘babes’ in relation to himself and trying not to imagine other situations in which Zayn would have to look up at him from the floor, Niall shakes his head and stomps towards his bedroom door, planning on getting his two hours if it kills him. “If you could all just shut up so I could catch some sleep, that would be lovely thank you very much.”

 

Hearing more giggling from the other room, he pauses at his door to yell behind him: “And I wasn’t crying damnit! The food wasn’t that spicy, all the onions just made my fucking eyes water!” And with that, Niall slams the door behind him, throwing himself on his bed, and wondering why he hasn’t made new friends yet.

 

***

 

Two hours later, Niall wakes up, semi-refreshed and buzzing, ready to do this. Pulling on a pair of faded jeans, one of his favorite vintage Strokes t-shirts, and, of course, his battered old converse, he strolls into the living room to grab his guitar and head out. Thankfully, the other boys had been kind enough to tone it down and it’s so quiet, he figures they must have already left for the pub. But when he exits his room, he’s surprised to find one boy still sitting on the couch, watching telly distractedly.

 

“What are you still doing here, Zayn?” Niall asks as he takes a seat beside him, making sure to leave a sufficient amount of room between the two of them.

 

The corners of Zayn’s mouth turn up as he takes in Niall’s appearance appreciatively. “Figured you could drive me over. I didn’t really fancy being in a car with the two crazy lovebirds.”

 

Niall chuckles at that, fully agreeing. Louis and Harry could be a bit much at times, especially when they were together and so full on. “That I can see. Alright, let me just grab me stuff and we’ll be off.”

 

Getting up, Niall goes about the apartment, collecting everything he would need: guitar pick and extra guitar strings from his room; a couple bottles of water from the fridge; a black beanie from Louis’ room because frankly, he simply can’t be arsed to fix his hair tonight; and, of course, his guitar where it sat in its corner of honor in the living room. The entire time he scurries around, spending a whole five minutes looking for his wallet (which were in his back jeans pocket, of course), he can feel Zayn’s eyes on him, unabashedly watching him making a fool of himself.

 

Finally, the blonde is all set to go. Turning from the closet where he has just grabbed his coat, he startles when he finds Zayn standing right behind him, a little smirk on his face as he steps right into Niall’s personal space. He smells of cigarette smoke and something fresh, like pine trees or rain or some other cliché smell from nature, and from this close, Niall notices the tiny specks of gold in his warm brown eyes, which are framed by his abnormally-long eyelashes.

 

It’s a bit overwhelming to be quite honest.

 

“Ready to go, guitar-boy?”

 

Unable to speak, Niall quickly nods his head yes, flushing a little as he hastily grabs his belongings and races out the door, pretending not to hear Zayn giggling behind him.

 

***

 

Thirty minutes later, the two boys are sitting at a table in the smoky bar with Louis, Harry, Josh, Jon, and a couple other friends from University. The atmosphere is fun, full of beer and good, live music. Niall is giddy, waiting for his turn to go on stage. The pretty girl up there now is decently good, singing an acoustic rendition of Call Me Maybe. But even though he’s enjoying her performance, Niall’s itching to get his fingers around his guitar. He lives for nights like this. In just a couple of moments, it will be just him and his guitar, on stage, singing his little heart out.

 

“Hey guys!” Liam says cheerfully as he slides into the seat between Zayn and Josh, greeting his boyfriend with a kiss on the cheek.

 

And just like that, Niall’s good mood plummets.

 

“Liam!” Louis says carefully, eying Niall as he speaks. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight!”

 

“Yeah, honey. What are you doing here?” Zayn says, his slight agitation obvious in his voice. Apparently Niall isn’t the only one who finds Liam’s presence a little annoying.

 

Signaling for the waitress, Liam grins and replies: “I hadn’t planned on it, really. They asked me to come do a set, and I thought I’d have too much work to come. But, I ended up revising all weekend long, so I figured a night out would do me some good.”

 

“Oh. Why didn’t you tell me?” Zayn asks, still seeming a little annoyed.

 

“Didn’t know you were gonna be here, babe,” Liam replies before quickly ordering a Pepsi from the waitress. Figures he wouldn’t be drinking.

 

“Well of course he’s here!” Harry pipes up, face already red from the beers he’s been drinking. “Niall’s playing tonight too.”

 

Frowning, Liam turns to face the blonde, staring him head-on like Niall’s done something wrong. “You are? Sandy didn’t mention it when I was talking to him earlier…”

 

Shit. Shitshitshit. _Shit_. He forgot to invite Sandy. Niall is literally the worst person to ever exist in the entire universe. And there’s Liam Goddamn Payne, looking at him like he’s daring Niall to admit that he’s a total asshole.

 

Thank the good Lord for Jon though, who comes to Niall’s rescue, saying: “Probably because Sandy has rehearsal tonight, and couldn’t make it out anyway. Why mention it if you can’t go, you know.”

 

Luckily, before anyone can comment further, the blue-haired girl on stage finishes her peppy song to the cheers of her friends and the MC comes back on stage.

 

“Thank you Jade! Wasn’t she wonderful folks? Come on, give it up for Jade Thirwall everybody! Alright, alright. Next we have one bad-ass Irish lad and his guitar. Give it up for Niall Horan folks!”

 

Shoving away stupid thoughts, Niall quickly runs away from the tense moment and up to the stage to the catcalls of his mates, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. Right now, it is his moment to shine; he can think about Liam’s constant presence in his life later.

 

“What up, guys!” he says into the microphone, guitar nestled in his lap as he absentmindedly tunes it. “So I’m going to be playing three songs for you tonight. This first one is one of my all-time favorites. This is, All This And Heaven Too by Florence + The Machine. Hope you enjoy”

 

Fiddling with the microphone, Niall takes a deep breath and calms himself down. When he’s settled, he leisurely starts to sing his own slowed-down rendition of the song.

 

_And the heart is hard to translate_

_It has a language of its own_

_It talks in tongues and quiet sighs_

_And prayers and proclamations in the grand days_

_Of great men and the smallest of gestures_

_In short shallow gasps_

 

Looking up from his fingers, his stomach tightens pleasantly when he notices the entire pub swaying to the song. This is what he loves. This is what keeps him in music.

 

_But with all my education_

_I can’t seem to commend it_

_And the words are all escaping me_

_And coming back all damaged_

_And I would put them back in poetry_

_If I only knew how, I can’t seem to understand it_

 

Scanning the crowd, he sees Louis smiling dreamily, head on Harry’s shoulder as they clumsily try to sway, completely off rhythm. Little idiots. And then there’s Josh and Jon, lighters in hand waving them back and forth over their heads. Smiling fondly, his gaze wanders a bit to the left and he is suddenly gazing directly into Zayn’s eyes, which have gone dark and big as he listens to Niall sing.

 

_And I would give all this and heaven too_

_I would give it all if only for a moment_

_That I could just understand_

_The meaning of the word you see_

_‘Cause I’ve been scrawling it forever_

_But it never makes sense to me at all_

Niall looks down to make sure his fingers are positioned properly but as soon as his eyes are lifted, they immediately find Zayn’s again.

 

_And it talks to me in tiptoes_

_And sings to me inside_

_It cries out in the darkest night_

_And breaks in the morning light_

 

As he continues to play, it seems as if the rest of the room fades away until all Niall can sense is him, Zayn, and his guitar. And it’s like the first time he saw Zayn in that bar so many nights ago: he literally cannot focus on anything else but Zayn’s stare and the way his hands are clasped tightly in his lap as he leans slightly forward as if to hear better, tongue leaving his mouth to lick chapped lips.

 

_But with all my education_

_I can’t seem to commend it_

_And the words are all escaping_

_And coming back all damaged_

_And I would put them back in poetry_

_If I only knew how, I can’t seem to understand it_

 

By now, he is playing just for the Pakistani boy across the room who has somehow managed to capture his heart. And Niall doesn’t even realize how much he is trying to convey with the words of the beautifully written song.

 

_And I would give all this and heaven too_

_I would give it all if only for a moment_

_That I could just understand_

_The meaning of the word you see_

_‘Cause I’ve been scrawling it forever_

_But it never makes sense to me at all_

 

His face is flushed and his heart is hammering heavily in his chest; but Niall’s fingers need no encouragement or help, dancing over the strings of their own accord as he continues to sing every thought from his head he wish he could say out loud.

 

_No, words are language_

_It doesn’t deserve such treatment_

_And all my stumbling phrases_

_Never amounted to anything worth this feeling_

 

Taking a deep breath, he finishes the song softly and quietly and emotionally, unable to break eye-contact with Zayn even if he wanted to.

 

_All this heaven never could describe_

_Such a feeling as I’m healing, words were never so useful_

_So I was screaming out a language_

_That I never knew existed before._

 

As the last chords fade out, Niall closes his eyes, trying to regain control of his thoughts. He knows what he feels for Zayn. If he’s going to be honest with himself, he’s known it for quite some time. And the feelings in his heart aren’t purely friendly. No matter how he tries to convince himself that he can just be friends with the gorgeous boy, he knows at the end of the day he’s going to want more. He can’t be in the same room as him without wanting to hold his hand; can’t hear him speak without wanting to occupy his lips with a different task; can’t even look him in the eye without his stomach knotting and literally losing his breath.

 

And it sucks.

 

It sucks because even as Niall is startled out of his epiphany by the sound of applause, even as he opens his eyes and takes in the ecstatic crowd, even as his gaze is ultimately drawn back to Zayn’s wide smile as he cheers and claps as hard as he can; Niall cannot ignore that someone else’s hand is currently resting on the back of Zayn’s neck, brushing fingers through the dark hairs at the base of his skull. And that someone belongs to Zayn.

 

That someone gets to tell Zayn how beautiful he is every day, and wake up to him every morning, and hold his hand and kiss him and touch him whenever he wants. That someone is currently glaring up at Niall with a look that screams possessiveness, that is warning Niall to back off. That someone is now turning to brush his lips against Zayn’s temple, whispering whatever he wants in his ear because he can, he has the right to. That someone is now running his hand down his arm, reaching to grab graceful, slender fingers in his own larger, rougher ones. And that someone deliberately takes a hold of Zayn’s chin to tilt his mouth towards his, stoppering up his cheers with a determined kiss.

 

And that someone isn’t Niall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wah ok. Yes I'm a bad person. But it get's happy I swear!
> 
> Also I linked this version of the song because I had a friend who did a cover of this and it would be perfect for how Niall would sing it (all slow and full of emotion and stuff) but since he's stupid and won't upload a video on youtube because he's dumb, I chose this version because it's closest to how I imagined it.
> 
> And yeah, I think maybe 6 more chapters? And prepare for a lot of angst and sadness in the next one. A lot....
> 
> Love you all! Thanks for reading!


	11. Love Will Tear Us Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam gets a chance to sing and Niall ends the night in tears.

[Love Will Tear Us Apart](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bLkGUSxF5xM)

 

After playing his third song, his own version of [If I Had a Boat](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xV9pvjQc0pY) by James Vincent McMorrow, Niall finally manages to get of stage, tripping over a few cords and wires in his haste to get out from underneath the glaring stage lights. Remembering that he still has his guitar in hand, he quickly crouches next to his case where he had left it by the stage, gently nestling the instrument inside before taking a couple of deep breaths to steady himself. What the hell was that? All those feelings, so many emotions that he doesn’t know what to do with bombarded him out of nowhere. It’s a miracle he managed to make it through the rest of his set without exploding.

 

Because Niall knows one thing now for sure: he loves Zayn. He doesn’t know how much or when is started or what will happen or if anything _could_ ever happen or what any of it means. He just knows that his heart beats faster when Zayn is around. His palms start sweating and his knees shake when Zayn touches him. His entire life seems to have split into time without Zayn and time with Zayn.

 

And that scares Niall to death.

 

Standing up, he decides the best place for him to be right now is the bar, because he is, to put it quite frankly, simply not pissed enough. He starts to weave his way through the crowded room, but is stopped when a small warm hand grasps his arm: Louis, of course.

 

“Niall! That was absolutely amazing, love! So much depth and feeling. I didn’t know you had that in you!” Louis practically screams in his ear, jumping up and down in excitement. He pulls Niall with him back to their table, plopping him back in his empty seat as he continues to go on and on about Niall’s growing emotional maturity or some nonsense like that. The Irishman ignores his overexcited friend, instead signaling the bartender for a shot of vodka and doing his best to pay no attention to the stares of the beautiful boy who is, unfortunately, sitting next to him, as well as the glares of said beautiful boy’s boyfriend, who looks as if he swallowed a hairball.

 

The announcer hops back onto the stage and shouts into his mic: “Alright alright! Let’s give it up one more time for my favorite Irishman, Mr. Niall Horan! Wasn’t he amazing folks?”

 

Niall can’t help but smile as his friends erupt into cheers once more, patting him on the back and throwing their napkins and straws at him affectionately. He loves his friends, he really really does, so he resolves to enjoy this night. After all, he did have an amazing performance. He deserves to let loose and have some fun. So what if he just had a life-shattering epiphany about a boy he can never hope to be with truly? Don’t let the little things get you down, or whatever.

 

“Okay folks, up next we have,” the announcer continues, squinting a little at the list of names in his hand. “Oh! Here’s a real treat, a friend of mine with a beautiful voice, Liam Payne, accompanied by my man Dan! Come on up here guys!”

 

Liam, jumps up with a large smile on his face, reaching out to stroke his fingers through his boyfriends hair and staring pointedly at Niall as he does, before making his way up to the stage with Dan and his guitar trailing right behind him. Oh. Louis must have caught that look because suddenly he’s frowning at Niall, as if to ask ‘What the hell is going on here’.

 

As if Niall ever actually knows for fucks sake.

 

“Hey everybody,” Liam says into the mic as he settles himself on to a stool and Dan plucks aimlessly at his guitar. “So this first song is one I think we can all relate to a bit. I know I can sometimes,” he says, chuckling nervously. “But anyway, I’d like to dedicate this one to my beautiful boyfriend, Zayn. I love you so, so much baby.”

 

The only person who looks more shocked than Niall by this declaration of love is Zayn as the rest of the pub coo’s and ooh’s with delight. He practically blanches at the words, quickly looking over at his blonde friend who is suddenly very much engrossed in his drink menu. If there is one thing Niall does not want to think about right now it would be Liam’s perfectly suffocating love for his cheating boyfriend and how said boyfriend may or may not feel in return.

 

Dan counts Liam in, and he begins to sing in that beautiful rich voice of his:

 

_When routine bites hard_

_And ambitions are low_

 

Oh my God. He’s really singing this song right now?

 

_And resentment rides high_

_But emotions won’t grow_

 

 

Is this in anyway necessary?

When the waitress comes with his shot, Niall quickly downs it, placing the empty shot glass back on her tray and asking for another one. He knows that is the only possible way he’ll get through this entire song.

 

_And we’re changing our ways, taking different roads_

 

Liam’s big brown puppy eyes are closed, thank you Jesus (Niall isn’t sure he could handle all the sappiness and love in them right now) and his voice is dripping with emotion. But his lovely boyfriend is looking anywhere but the stage.

 

_Then love, love will tear us apart again._

_Love, love will tear us apart again._

 

Actually, his blatant disregard is starting to get to Niall. Liam just told the world how much he loves him, and Zayn can hardly be bothered to watch him pour out his soul. Sure, the couple have their issues (Niall knows that better than anyone, oh boy does he), but still, even if Zayn is unsure about his relationship and even if Liam is too sickeningly perfect for his own good, you’d think Zayn would have enough respect to at least pay a little attention to his boyfriends heart rendering performance.

 

_Why is this bedroom so cold?_

_You’ve turned away on your side_

_Is my timing that flawed?_

_Our respect runs so dry_

 

When his second shot comes, Niall holds off on it, instead studying Zayn who seems very interested in how many pieces he can shred his cocktail napkin in to. What the hell.

 

_Yet there’s still this appeal_

_That we’ve kept through our lives_

 

The Pakistani lad seems flustered, embarrassed, maybe even upset as the song continues. And Niall is getting more and more agitated. This song is basically Liam screaming to Zayn that no matter what has happened between the two of them, no matter that their love is growing cold, he wants to hold on. Liam wants to fix things. But Zayn seems… indifferent.

 

_But love, love will tear us apart again_

 

It just makes no sense.

 

_Love, love will tear us apart again._

 

A little frustrated, Niall nudges the other boy, snapping him out of whatever trance he is in. When Zayn’s face brightens up at Niall’s touch, the blonde gets even more annoyed with the situation.

_You cry out in your sleep_

_All my failings exposed_

 

“What’s your problem, mate?”

 

_And there’s a taste in my mouth_

_As desperation takes hold_

 

“What do you mean, Ni?” Zayn responds, genuinely bewildered.

 

“I mean that your fucking _boyfriend_ is trying to sing you a song, and you’d rather cover this table with napkin confetti then pay attention!” Niall snaps, ignoring the confused looks of the rest of the table. “Show a little respect, why don’t you.”

 

_Just that something so good just can’t function no more_

 

Zayn face goes from confused to stunned to hurt and ending up at livid all within the space of a few seconds. Turning his entire body to face Niall, he spits out: “Don’t you dare tell me how I should act in my relationship, Niall. You have no right to try and tell me anything!”

_But love, love will tear us apart again_

 

“I have the right to call out any of my _friends_ who I think is acting stupidly, Zayn!”

 

“No you don’t. You can’t just fuck your way into deciding my life for me!”

 

“What the hell did you just say to me?!”

 

“You heard me, Niall! You fucked me once and now you think you own my life. We wouldn’t even be in this situation if it weren’t for you—”

 

“How can you possibly blame this shit on me?! I’m not the one who fucking cheated—”

 

By now the two boys are nose to nose, growling at each other so loudly that the tables near to them are starting to stare. Even Liam is frowning curiously down at the scene, having opened his eyes and now wondering what the hell could have his boyfriend so agitated. Louis opens his mouth to try and reason with his friends, but before he can utter a word, the two are now openly yelling at one another, not even bothering to be quiet or respectful of the performance.

_Love, love will tear us apart again_

 

“Oh, like you haven’t been spurring me on, dragging me into bathrooms at parties—”

 

“You were practically eye-fucking me the entire night, don’t even act like you didn’t come willingly—”

 

“Ha! Came willingly. Good one Niall, really funny joke—”

 

“Not to mention I never _forced_ you to sleep with me. You took _me_ home, remember—”

 

“You tried to sing your way into my pants, asshole! And you’re the one who keeps coming back. You didn’t have to talk to me ever after that night, if you were so set on being above all this shit.”

 

_Love, love will tear us apart again_

 

“You’re the one who approached me. You took me home, you lied to me. And then you were the one who wanted to be friends so badly. So don’t try and blame this all on me, Zayn. Own up!”

 

_Love, love will tear us apart again_

 

When Liam ends his song and the rest of the pub erupts in cheers, Niall is flushed completely red, tears filling his bright blue eyes. His hands won’t stop shaking and his stomach is churning nastily because he is in absolute _shock_. How could Zayn possibly blame this entire debacle on him? If he had known that the other boy was in a relationship, he would have stayed far, far, far, far, far away. And the way Zayn is looking at him right now is ripping his heart in two.

 

The rest of their table is looking at one another, silently wondering what they should do with the knowledge the fighting friends just admitted to the world. But before Jon can say anything, who is currently looking at Zayn with murder in his eyes, Liam speaks again.

 

“Erm…” Liam’s voice crackles through the microphone, causing Zayn to stop glaring at Niall is if he is the scum of the termites of the earth, and look up into his boyfriends worried eyes. “So… yeah that was for you baby. Hope you enjoyed it,” he says quietly, sadly. “I think I’m gonna take a little break, if that’s ok with you guys. Need to rest my voice a bit before I continue.”

 

And then Liam is stepping off the stage and making his way back to their table.

 

Niall doesn’t even wait around to see what happens next, jumping up from his seat, muttering some excuse about unfinished composition homework and wiping away unshed tears, before practically sprinting out of the bar. He manages to make it all the way to his car before breaking down completely. He leans against the side of his little Corolla, buried his head in his arms, and sobs.

 

***

 

He’s not sure how long he’s been there when a large warm hand comes out of nowhere and pats him on the back. “You alright, Ni?” Harry’s voice drawls kindly behind him. “Why don’t I drive you home, yeah? I haven’t been drinking so you know…”

 

Nodding his head, he hands Harry his keys, and gets in the passenger seat without a word, curling in on himself. Harry scrambles into the driver’s seat, folding his long, gangly limbs into the tiny seat and putting the keys into the ignition. But instead of starting the car and heading back to the flat, he pauses and turns to look at his blonde friend. “You know, I like to think that you and I have gotten closer, since I’ve been around lately,” he says slowly in his low voice. “And I’d like to think that we’ve come to the point where I can like…talk to you about shit. So I know you probably don’t want to hear what I have to say right now, but I’m gonna say it anyway, ok?”

 

Niall is staring out the window, back to Harry, but he grunts a little, just to let him know he’s listening.

 

“I know you’re in love with Zayn.” Niall doesn’t move an inch. “It’s kind of obvious, from the way you talk about him, how you look at him, even like how your face gets all glowy when you two text. It’s sort of beautiful, really. Your love shining through and blinding all the rest of us and stuff.” Harry chuckles a little, like he’s funny or something. Niall remains unmoving.

 

Sighing and running a hair through his unruly hair (for some reason, Harry had all of a sudden decided to take Louis’ idiotic advice that his hair looked better all styled and quiffed up instead of loose and curly), Harry frowns, trying to figure out how exactly to explain himself. “I guess…I just…look I just think that you should tell him. Holding it all in can’t be healthy. I know you probably think that he’s just using you or something. But Zayn’s not like that. He really cares about you. You should have seen him scramble when you left the bar. Only thing that held him back from tearing after you was Liam. Who was really pissed, by the way. But that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to say is that you should tell him. Tell Zayn you love him. Because like I’m 97% sure he loves you too—”

 

“No.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Niall turns around to face him, eyes red and puffy from crying. “I said no. I’m not telling him shit. I’m done with him. I’m done with all this bullshit. He doesn’t love me. He never has and he never will. He has a fucking boyfriend, and I’m sick of being his excuse for not acting right in his stupid relationship. I’m just… I’m so fucking done.”

 

“But Niall—”

 

“But fucking nothing, Harry!” Niall cries out, eyes flashing as he dares the other boy to say one more word about this situation. “I told you, I’m done!”

 

Finally, Harry sighs again, nods his head, and moves to start the car. But when he looks away, Niall can see the obvious pity in his normally bright green eyes. Turning away once more, Niall looks out the window and tries not to cry all the way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooooo I know I haven't updated in ten zillion years but I have now! And the next chapter should be ready soon! I'm so sorry! I'm total shit! But I'm working on it!


	12. Love Love Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall get's sad, and then he get's sort of happy, and then he get's a visitor, and then he loses his apetite.
> 
> *This song I imagine Zayn singing, but there was no plausible way to get him over to Niall's flat with a boombox so we'll all just use our imaginations!

[Love Love Love](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3IhI87arSAE)

 

The next morning, Niall decides that sleeping in and skipping his classes is a really good idea. He spends the entire day in bed watching Misfits on his laptop, only leaving to take a wee twice. Louis brings him some tea and toast in the late afternoon, surprising Niall by not offering up any advice. He just cuddles up into bed with him and the two of them watch the show in silence. Niall gives him his cellphone, which he had turned off the night before and had no desire to turn on ever again. It’s a testament to their friendship that Louis doesn’t comment on the act, but simply slips it into his pocket and gives Niall a kiss on the cheek.

 

On Saturday, Niall does the same: cuddles up in bed with Louis, who was nice enough to bring him tomato soup (like he’s some sort of invalid) and they watch Sherlock together. And Sunday is the same, eats his porridge in bed with Louis as they watch the first season of Friends.

 

Monday morning when his alarm clock goes off, he knows he needs to get out of bed to make it to his 9 am Theory Class. But instead, he turns off the blaring noise and rolls back over. The next time he wakes up, it’s because a large, warm body has settled in beside him. Niall hasn’t talked to Harry since their… ‘discussion’ last Friday and he’s surprised to find the curly-headed lad’s laughing green eyes staring back at him.

 

“Hiya, Nialler,” he murmurs, smiling so widely Niall can’t help but grin back at him.

 

“Hello yourself, mate.”

 

“Wanna come get ice cream with me and Louis?”

 

Niall hesitates for a second before shaking his head no. He really couldn’t be bothered to move at all right now. Instead of putting up a fuss like Niall thinks he will, Harry simply smiles some more, nods his head, and leans over to smack a kiss on his forehead before exiting the room. Niall spends the rest of the day watching East Enders. Louis is sweet enough to bring him back a tub of cookie dough ice cream and a spoon, once again curling up with him underneath the covers and cuddling with him until he falls asleep.

 

Tuesday, Niall sleeps in til 1:30. He hadn’t even bothered setting his alarm, knowing he wouldn’t be up for his 4 hour piano master class that morning, especially since… he-who-Niall-was-definitely-not-thinking-about-every-waking-moment usually met him with lunch afterwards, knowing that Niall always worked up an appetite after so much piano playing. Instead, he manages to roll out of bed just to pee and grab a box of sugary cereal before settling back in bed to watch Geordie Shore.

 

Wednesday morning, Niall is rudely awoken by Louis, who jumps on top of him and actually bangs a pot and spoon together in his ear. “WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP!” Louis shouts happily, going to town with his clanging.

 

“Louis. Get the fuck off of me,” Niall mumbles into his pillow, trying to wiggle the smaller boy off of him.

 

“No can do lover my lovely!” Louis chirps, tickling Niall wherever he can reach until the blonde is giggling uncontrollably and gasping for air. “You, my dearest one, have class in an hour and I cannot stand for all this skipping anymore! Also, you smell. When’s the last time you had a shower?”

 

“Er…Friday?”

 

“Exactly my point,” Louis says, wrinkling his delicate little nose. With a grunt, he grabs Niall by the wrist and drags him out the bed, down the hall, and pushes him into the bathroom. “Don’t come out until you’re clean, fresh, and smelling like daisy’s and sunshine,” Louis demands, shoving a towel and his iPod into Niall’s sleepy hands.

 

Sighing, Niall turns on the water as hot as he can make it and strips down while steam collects around him. He plugs his iPod into the speakers they keep in their for shower music (even though lately, it’s generally been used to cover up the sounds of Louis and Harry having shower sex), choosing his depressing playlist.

 

_Well, maybe I’m a crook for stealing your heart away_

_Yeah, maybe I’m a crook for not caring for it_

 

Through the fog, he takes a moment to examine himself thoroughly in the mirror: his eyes are bloodshot, his hair greasy and flat on his head from remaining unwashed; there are purple bruises underneath his eyes as if he hasn’t slept, even though he’s done nothing but stay in bed for the past four days; his skin is pale and he looks older, more exhausted. Niall looks different. He feels different, as if everything has taken a toll on his life.

 

_Yeah well maybe I’m a bad, bad, bad, bad person_

_Well baby I know_

 

Stepping under the scalding hot spray, Niall simply stands there and lets the water wash over him, ignoring the burn on his skin, listening to the song and pretending Zayn is singing it to him.

 

_And these fingertips_

_Will never run through your skin_

_And those bright blue eyes_

_Can only meet mine across a room filled with people that are less important than you_

 

He doesn’t like what he’s become. He knows keeps thinking that over and over and over again, but Niall really just does not like what his life becomes. He has literally never been like this before in his life. Never has he felt so broken, so helpless, so… so _lost_ before. And he doesn’t like it. He hates feeling like this. And now he’s ready to do something about it all.

 

There is one simple solution: Niall needs to get over Zayn.

 

_All ‘cause you love, love, love_

_When you know I can’t love_

 

Because Zayn can’t love him

 

_You love, love, love_

_When you know I can’t love you_

 

His life has been nothing but trouble since he slept with the beautiful boy. And being friends was absolutely impossible for them. So it seems to him that the only way for Niall to regain his sanity is to avoid Zayn, not think about Zayn, and get over Zayn.

 

_So I think it’s best we both forget before we dwell on it_

 

 No more ‘accidently’ taking the long way to class just so he can walk by the English building and possibly catch a glimpse of quiffed hair and leather jackets. No more staying up until 3 am even when he knows he needs to be up early in the morning, just so he can send text messages back and forth until his eyes can barely stay open anymore. No more thinking about hazel eyes going dark with lust and thin lips stretched obscenely around his cock while wanking at night.

 

_The way you held me so tight_

_All through the night_

_‘Til it was near morning_

 

It won’t be easy, but Niall misses his old self. He used to be so easy-going, so care-free, so happy to be alive. Nothing used to bother him, and it seemed like the only thing Niall ever used to worry about was where he was going to go on the weekend and what he was going to drink once he got there. So, if he’s going to become himself again, Niall is simply going to have to shed off all the baggage he’s been carrying around lately.

 

_All ‘cause you love, love, love_

_When you know I can’t love…you_

 

The water starts to go cold so Niall steps out, wraps a towel around his waist and goes back to his room to throw on some clean joggers and t-shirt that only smells slightly musty before emerging into the kitchen. There, he finds Harry and Louis sitting at the table, drinking tea with matching worried fake smiles plastered on their faces. Niall gives them a little grimace before helping himself to the plate of eggs, sausage, and toast Harry (obviously) made him. He’s absolutely ravenous, having not eaten much in the past couple of days.

 

They all sit in silence for a little while, Harry staring at Louis (because Harry’s always staring at Louis), Louis staring at Niall (because he’s waited way too long for answers to about a zillion questions and he’s quite frankly worried about the boy), and Niall is staring at his food (wondering how the hell he could have ever gone this long without eating properly, Lord Jesus help him). Finally, Louis breaks the silence: “So, Ni, are you feeling any better?”

 

Niall just nods, face stuffed with food.

 

“Great! So… you’re, like, okay now?”

 

Head nod.

 

“All good, just like that?”

 

Head nod.

 

“…No more depressive, mopey, sad, starving Niall?”

 

Head nod.

 

Louis exchanges a skeptical look with Harry who just shrugs and sips his tea. “It’s just that you haven’t really left you’re room in five days and you’ve barely eaten anything and I’ve gotten super worried about you. So you have to tell me, are absolutely certain that you are going to start living like a normal functioning human being from now on?”

 

Niall manages to swallow the food in his mouth and before shoveling in another mouthful, he tries to reassure Louis: “Seriously, Tommo. I’ve just had a shower epiphany and now that I’m all squeaky clean, I realize what to do.”

 

“Do you now?”

 

“I’m gonna be done with Zayn. For good this time. And I’m gonna focus on myself for once. I just want to be happy again, Lou.” Niall says earnestly.

 

“But you love him, Ni! And I’m pretty sure he loves you too—”

 

Groaning, Niall throws down his fork and shoots a glare at his concerned friend. “Yeah, I love him but he doesn’t love me back. I’ve accepted that. And you should too.”

 

“But Niall, darling—”

 

“But nothing, Lou! I’m fine. Well, no I’m not. But I’m working on it, okay? Just… trust me, it’ll be fine. I just need time and shit, alright?”

 

Slowly, the older boy conceded and resumed sipping his tea, but not before sharing a look with his boyfriend which basically said that they would both be keeping an eye on the boy.

 

And that was that.

 

***

 

A couple of weeks go by and Niall slowly (very, extremely, turtles-pace slowly) starts to return to his normal care-free self. He didn’t think it would be this hard to forget… him. It took him awhile to stop rerouting his walks to class and not constantly check his phone for new messages (Louis had finally given him back the phone after deleting all his previous texts with him as well as his number). It took even longer not to let his mind drift to thoughts of him at night when he was alone. Niall had taken to watching telly until his eyes could take it no longer, usually passing out right there on the couch.

 

But Niall was getting there. He was almost okay.

 

He attended class, performed at his gigs, partied on the weekends with his friends, even reconnected with Sandy. Yes, it may seem strange that even after Niall fucked up so much with the other boy Sandy still wanted to hang out with him. However, shortly after… the-incident-at-the-pub-that-we-don’t-speak-of, Niall had texted him. Sandy sounded delighted to hear from him and they had ended up hanging out that very weekend. Soon enough, Niall was spending almost every other night with the lad, watching movies and eating takeaway while Niall did homework and Sandy tried to get into his pants (no, they hadn’t had sex yet, but Niall was working on that; at least he managed to get it up every time they fooled around). Niall was happier, he was getting there.

 

And that was that.

 

***

 

The snow flutters down around Niall as he walks from his car and into his apartment building, stamping the snow of his boots as he heads towards the lift. It’s December 22nd: three days before Christmas, two days before Louis’ 22nd birthday, and one day before the last showing of the Tempest. Niall had spent the last four hours trying to find his overexcited friend a worthy enough present and had finally settled on a large bottle of mostly-expensive tequila and a huge burgundy velvet dressing gown, because it absolutely screamed Louis William Tomlinson.

 

When he gets to his door, he hears the murmur of voices and curses silently: how is he supposed to sneak the gift inside now if his flatmate is home? Louis can practically smell presents and Niall really doesn’t want to have to fight the boy off so he doesn’t peak early. He’s just about to text Harry to distract the soon-to-be birthday boy for a minute (Lord only knows Harry is more than capable of that) when suddenly the door is wrenched open and Niall comes face to face with… “Liam?”

 

“Oh, ehrm…I was just…you see I had come by to, eh, see you actually, Niall,” Liam manages to get out, nervously. Niall can just see Louis and Harry behind him, giving him the same strange looks. What the fuck is going on here? “Could we maybe talk for a bit? In private?”

 

“Uh, yeah sure, mate. Let me… let me just shove this in my room. And then we can, er, talk, yeah?” Niall says, going inside the flat when Liam nods absentmindedly, pushing past Thing One and Thing Two so he can dump his packages, boots, coat, hat, and gloves in his messy room. When he arrives back at the living room, Liam is perched awkwardly on the couch, a glass of ice water on the coffee table in front of him. Louis and Harry, thank God, are nowhere to be found.

 

“So…Liam,” Niall says as he seats himself in one of the cushy armchairs and tries hard not to freak out. “What can I do you for?”

 

The other lad stares at his hands, which are currently clasped tightly together in his lap, and takes a couple of moments to gather his thoughts. “I’m sure you’re aware that Zayn and I… aren’t dating anymore.”

 

Niall did not know that.

 

Liam continues: “I don’t know how much of the details he’s told you, but it happened the last time I saw you actually, the open mic night, remember? Just after you left, he told me that he couldn’t be with me anymore.”

 

Niall stares resolutely at a poster of Michael Buble he taped to the wall years past, trying not to feel anything.

 

“I’m not going to lie and pretend like I had any idea it was coming, because I didn’t. I knew we were going through a rough patch, but I never, ever, ever thought it would end in us breaking up. That night he surprised me with it out of nowhere. Before I knew it, he was moving out, telling me not to call, saying he had a lot of things to figure out.

 

“You see for the past two years Zayn has been my entire life. I really thought we were going to end up together forever…” Liam pauses for a moment, takes a sip from the glass of water in front of him, before continuing. “I really did truly love him. Still do if I’m going to be absolutely honest with myself.”

 

“What does this have to do with me?” Niall blurts out, can’t stand to hear Liam speak anymore. He wishes the boy would just leave him alone so he can go back to not thinking about… Liam’s-ex-who-Niall-does-not-think-about-ever.

 

Liam gives him a forced, unamusing grin. “He told me all about whatever it was you two had going on.” That makes Niall’s blood run icy cold. He had figured Liam would find out someday but he’d hoped that day would be 50 years into the future after he and Zayn had successfully raised their six children and Liam was too old and weak to properly beat him up. “I probably shouldn’t have been surprised, seeing how much time you guys spent together.” He shakes his head a little, chuckling humorlessly. “Honestly, should have known from the first time I found you in my apartment covered in love bites.”

 

“Liam—I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say… you probably want to hit me right now and I’m okay with that because I deserve it just please spare my bollocks because I really need them and even though you probably want to take away that joy from my life I’d really still like to have my baby-making capabilities in tact even though I’m gay so it’s not like I’ll be impregnating anyone anytime soon so you could just punch my face a little bit if that’s what you want to do—”

 

“Niall!” Liam says loudly, interrupting the blond boy with a grimace on his face. Sighing he says: “I’m not going to punch you. Even though I kind of want to. Actually I really want to. But that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to thank you.”

 

 _Thank_ him? “ _Thank_ me?” Niall splutters out, certain that he must have misheard the boy. Because no. That cannot be the truth.

 

“Stop looking at me like that,” Liam says, giving Niall a sharp look. “Don’t worry, I’m still upset with you and him and I kind of sort of would like to hate you, but yes, I still have to thank you.”

 

“But why, Liam, fucking why?”

 

“Because you helped me realize how unhappy Zayn was with me and how unhappy I was with him.”

 

“Huh?” Niall is absolutely confused right now.

 

Liam looks frustrated now. “Look, Niall, for two years the two of us have done literally everything together. We ate together and slept together and went to class together and studied together and partied together and vacationed together. The longest we had been apart in God only knows how long was when I went up to Wolverhampton that weekend and he declined to go with me, just to see you play that Friday. Yes, I love him so much but… we’re too dependent on each other. And we’d changed, both of us.”

 

Niall just nods his head and tries to wrap his throbbing head around the whole situation. Zayn declined to come see him play? Surely Liam means he went to get drunk and stayed for Niall’s performance, right? He doesn’t say anything though, so Liam keeps speaking.

 

“Did you know last year I really wanted to drop out of school and become a fire fighter? Sure, being a physical therapist would be great, but I really hate school. I’m absolute shit at studying. But Zayn, being the good student he is and a lover of knowledge, convinced me that I’d be happier if I got my degree. More practical or something.”

 

The Irishman nods his head again and says: “Yeah that sounds like Zayn.”

 

Liam hums agreement. “So now I’m taking control of my life. I dropped out two weeks ago and just enrolled in London’s firefighting training program. I even have a date with one of the guys on the force, was planning on bringing him to Louis’ birthday party…if you guys are ok with me being there, that is?”

 

“Yeah, I’m sure Louis won’t mind. He’s basically invited the entire world really.”

 

“Oh no, I didn’t mean Louis. He already explained to me that it didn’t matter how little we knew of each other or how much he was technically supposed to hate me: I’m now required to attend or else risk damnation.” Liam says with a laugh and Niall grins fondly as well. Apparently Louis’ ability to wrap anyone and everyone around his little finger extended to the lad he had once un-affectionately referred to as the ‘dog faced butt muncher’. “I meant if you and Zayn didn’t want me at the party. I completely understand if you guys don’t want me ruining your night.”

 

 _Zayn_? Liam thought he and Zayn were together…Why would he think that though? Dragging himself out of his thoughts and trying to keep breathing, Niall says: “Er, you do know Zayn and I aren’t together, right?”

 

Liam frowns a little in confusion. “Really? Oh…I had just assumed that you two had gotten together after we ended things, seeing how he had basically confessed to me how he felt so much more himself around you than he ever had around me…”

 

Niall shakes his head slowly. “No, I…I actually haven’t spoken to him since the open mic. Haven’t even seen him even,” he says softly, wondering why Zayn hadn’t spoken to him. If what Liam had said was true, Zayn had basically alluded to the fact that Niall was who he wanted, the person he wanted to be with. So why, then, had he not come to Niall and told him he and Liam were done? It just makes no sense unless… “Zayn doesn’t want to be with me. I’m sure I was fun for a while and it was great for him to figure out what he wanted in life, but not forever.”

 

Liam actually looks quite taken aback by that. “Are you sure, Niall? I mean, he practically admitted to me that he loves—”

 

“He doesn’t love me!” Niall snaps, angrily. He feels like a broken record, having to emphasize over and over and over again that Zayn didn’t ever love him. Zayn just needed someone to fool around with, someone to give him that final push to realize his relationship was failing and end it all. Why can’t everyone else see that?

 

Liam looks at him curiously. “Do you really believe that?” Niall nods and Liam gives him a funny look. “Well, okay Niall. I still believe he does, but it’s your life, mate.” After an awkward pause, he gives Niall the tiniest of smiles, but it’s genuine. “I suppose I should get out of your way then,” he says as he gets up from his seat. Niall stands up as well and walks him to the apartment door. They aren’t exactly friends, not even close, but Niall can tell that Liam doesn’t see him as the enemy anymore. Maybe in time, the two could even grow to like each other.

 

Sharing an amiable handshake, the Irishman closes the door behind his now non-enemy and turns to find Louis and Harry (of course) staring at him grinning like Siamese cats. Groaning, Niall asks: “How much did you hear?”

 

“Everything, duh,” Louis replies, seating himself on the couch and patting the space next to him, waiting for Niall to sit down. “So, if I have this correctly, Zayn dumped Liam, told him that you two fucked, moved out, but never told you. Now Liam realizes that your dick was a sign from heaven that his relationship was shit, he’s thanked you for it all, dropped out of school to become a fireman, and now he’s trying to get in the pants of a hot firefighter?”

 

“Pretty much,” Niall says as Harry giggles and somehow manages to curl up in Louis’ lap (Harry kind of reminded Niall of an overgrown dog who had been a cat in a previous lifetime). “Cannot believe that just happened,” he says, shaking his head and laughing to himself a little.

 

Louis hums absentmindedly and turns on the telly, a funny look on his face that the blonde chooses to ignore, settling back to watch some mindless television before dinner. Niall is almost halfway convinced that there will be no more commentary on the subject when Louis mutes the commercial that interrupts the episode of Hell’s Kitchen they were watching. “So I guess that means Zayn is a single lad, ay Nialler?”

 

With a groan, Niall pushes himself off the couch and makes his way to the kitchen, looking in the drawer filled with takeaway menus for the Thai place with the amazing basil rice. “I think we should get Thai for dinner, I’m quite sick of pizza by now. Harry, you want the Pad Thai again? Or was it too spicy for you last time?” he calls into the living room.

 

“Definitely too spicy. Can I just get those rice noodle things?”

 

“Sure, mate. Do you want them with a seafood medley or chicken and beef?”

 

“Enough of this foolishness!” Louis cries before Harry can make-up his mind, storming into the kitchen and putting his little fists on his hips. “You’re avoiding the subject and I do not appreciate it!”

 

“Do you not want Thai food?” Niall asks innocently, as he peruses the menu and tries to decide whether or not to get spring rolls.

 

“Yes, I want Thai food. Get me that green curry with a side of white rice please, and make it spicy. But that’s not the issue here!”

 

Deciding that yes, spring rolls would be an excellent addition to his meal, the suddenly starving lad takes out his phone and moves to make the call to place their order but Louis stops him.

 

“Niall, please. Just talk to me,” Louis pleads. Niall’s about to brush him off when he notices the serious look in his older friend’s eyes.

 

Louis is very rarely serious or solemn or grave. Instead, he’s kind of like light and happiness and fun rolled up into a ball of pint-sized dramatics. So when Niall see’s the concern in his usually light-hearted friend’s eyes, he feels a little guilty. Lately, it seems that the only apprehension in Louis’ life is him. It’s like every time Niall is around, Louis has to turn down his fun and make sure that Niall isn’t holding back tears (that only happened twice, really) or having a panic attack (after finding a CD of songs Zayn had given him to study to) or frustrated to the point of irritability (because try as he might, he can’t bring himself to have sex with Sandy). So, owing the boy everything, Niall stops and pays attention. “You can’t be this calm. You love Zayn and you just found out that he’s a free man. You two can be together! Why aren’t you running out the door to go find him and give him the best fuck of his life as you two admit your love for one another?”

 

Niall runs his hand through his dyed blonde tips. “Because he didn’t tell me, Louis. For a month now Zayn’s been a single man, and he never even thought to tell me. He doesn’t want me. If he did, he would have come running as soon as he moved out. We haven’t even talked; I don’t know how he is. Fuck, Lou, I don’t even know where he’s staying now!”

 

“But maybe he was scared! Maybe he’s out there waiting for his true love to come and find him, you just haven’t been able to look yet!” Louis cries, ever the optimist.

 

But Niall is not convinced. “If he wanted me to know he was single, he would’ve found a way to tell me.”

 

Noting the outright determined look on the younger boys face, Louis sighs and nods, patting him gently on the back and trying not to let the pity show on his face.

 

“So, Harry. Seafood or chicken and beef?” Niall says as he pokes his head through the doorway leading to the living room, where Harry is trying his best to pretend that he is not eavesdropping.

 

“Seafood would be lovely, thank you Niall dear,” he replies with a grin.

 

He unlocks his phone to make the call when he notices a new text message from an unknown number. Clicking on it, he sees that he has quite a few unopened messages from the same unknown number, all but the newest dating back to November. Curious, he scrolls through them. And as he scrolls, his heart starts beating harder and harder and when he finishes reading, he feels like crying.

 

Unknown:

I’m so sorry Niall, I’m so fucking sorry.

 

Unknown:

You have to believe me when I tell you I didn’t mean any of the shit I said.

 

Unknown:

I was just angry and upset cuz you know me so fucking well. I just didn’t want to open my eyes and see.

 

Unknown:

You were right. It’s all my fault we’re in this mess. I’m so fucking sorry, babes.

 

Unknown:

I broke up with him. If you even care. And I told him everything. About us.

 

Unknown:

Please answer me, Ni. Talk to me please.

 

Unknown:

Babes?

 

Unknown:

I’m done with him, Ni.

 

Unknown:

All I want is you.

 

And the newest

 

Unknown:

I miss you, Niall. I think about you all the time.

 

Suddenly, Niall has lost his appetite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look at me! Updating soon! Because I now have no life!
> 
> But yes, now I actually know how I'm going to end this thing and it'll probably be like 3-4 more chapters, depending on how long I make them.
> 
> Thanks for putting up with me and I love you all xxxx

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so I was going to make this a one-shot, but it seemed more like a chapter fic to me, which is basically where the ending comes from. Tell me what you think!


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